


Shattered Ice

by Bluemary



Series: Meant to belong [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Aftermath of Torture, BAMF Loki, BAMF Tony Stark, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Possessive Loki, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:59:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 57,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6920977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluemary/pseuds/Bluemary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Thanos getting closer, Tony struggles to make an unlikely alliance work and must choose what he's ready to sacrifice in order to save the world.</p><p>Sequel to "Like a mirror".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Gray walls

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise! I knew I told you I would take a break from this, but truth is, I was so glad and astonished by how well the epilogue of "Like a mirror" was received, that I started writing the sequel right away. I still have my evil exams to study for, so I can't tell you how often I'll be able to update, but I'll try my best to not let you wait too much between the chapters.
> 
> That said, as its predecessor, this story won't consider the canon of any movies after The Avengers (yes, the first one).
> 
> I want to thank Nyaed, who already corrected this prologue, and thanks to whoever is going to read it. Enjoy your reading!

**Prologue: Gray walls**

 

_He was running._

No, that was before, when he had still had a chance of salvation, when he had still believed he could survive and come out on top and find a way to hide. When he had been naive enough to hope.

Now there were only the icy cold walls of a gray cell around him, a cave with sharp rocks surrounding him and no ceiling because the black nothingness that was above his head was a lot more frightening than a simple wall. The ground was slick with his own blood, and, where it came in contact with his body, it sent painful stabs to the wounds that covered what was left of his skin. The only sound in that grave made out of stone was his own hissing breath.

He focused on it simply to keep on breathing, to give his lungs the air they desperately needed so that he could live for some more, wanting to prolong his existence even in the horrifying agony that had been his life for the last few days – _or weeks? Or months? How long had he been there, forgotten by everyone, an eternity of pain as his only companion? Had he became crazy and created in his mind a fake life where he had been somewhere other than in that icy cold prison?_

He would have laughed, at himself and at the world, if only he had been able to open his lips. Despite everything, he wasn't ready to let his body die and get lulled into a painless sleep without any awakenings.

He tried to move the only two unbroken fingers he had, but the mere attempt to send the impulse through his damaged nerves pushed his pain to new, brighter heights. There was bile inside his mouth, together with the blood and what little saliva with which the dehydration had left him. Puking, for what would have been the second or third time in the last few hours, would only make him weaker and worsen the pain of his broken ribs. He had long stopped counting how many whole ones he had left, maybe because he had realized that it didn't matter how his condition was, what parts of him hadn't been destroyed yet, since there wasn't any hope of salvation anyway.

There were no compromises this time. No easy ways out, no ways out at all, no means to stall, not even for a mind as clever as the one he possessed, because he had nothing with which to negotiate with the one who only wanted him to suffer.

There would be no end, no uncertainty, nothing to grab onto to find a glimmer of hope. No one would ever come for him.

His breath stopped in a gurgling sound, while his lungs refused to be filled again. With a huge effort that almost made him lose consciousness, he managed to move a couple of inches, turning his face so that his mouth wouldn't be pressed against the slimy ground anymore.

He tried to take a deep breath, feeling a burning pain at his chest. Another attempt, another gurgling sound. One of his broken ribs must have punctured a lung and now he could feel it collapsing at every breath. If that had happened at the beginning of his captivity, when the terrified discovery of being a prisoner again had still carried a stubborn will to find a way to escape, he would have tried to shift into a more comfortable position and to take care of his wounds the best he could; but now he was exhausted, his body and mind long worn out because of the pain. Even if he would never surrender to his fate, nor would he seek death himself – not anymore, not after he had manged to overcome that unbearable period of his life – his body had reached its limit, he didn't even have the energy to think.

He was almost drowning in the reassuring darkness that was clawing at his consciousness when he heard the dragged steps and the harsh laughter belonging to his tormentor's servants- the prelude to a new eternity of torture and pain that would bring him even closer to death.

 

Darkness.

Coldness.

Pain.

And then Tony woke up, one frantic hand going to his chest, looking for his Reactor, while his heart seemed about to burst through his throat.

It had been a dream.

Only a dream like many others, even if it had been so vivid that he still had goosebumps and hadn't stopped shivering yet. A joke of his own mind, which had thought it funny to condense the tension for the upcoming war, his darkest memories, and the recent lack of unusual events in his Tower into that nightmare.

_Only a dream._

 

And then, in a cold, bloodstained cell, several light years from Earth, Loki woke up too.

 


	2. Chapter 1: Fit to fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what to say? I didn't expect so many reviews for the prologue, thank you so much, guys! I hope this new chapter won't disappoint you. Of course, special thanks go to my beta Nyaed, thank you dear for all your help <3 I'll try to update again by the end of the next week, in the meanwhile, enjoy your reading^^

**Chapter 1: Fit to fight**

 

The walls surrounding him were a too bright white. The cell was an entirely smooth surface, the ceiling and the floor the same dazzling color, and it was all so annoying that he missed his sunglasses. There was only one exception to that pure, unadulterated white. His eyes went to the transparent glass that covered the wall where there was the only door, looking out at an empty hallway.

He let himself fall down on the mattress with a sigh.

He was in a cell, but it was a more comfortable prison than the one where Schmidt had spent the last days of his life. The temperature was acceptable, there was a bed instead of a cot, and he even had a small toilet with a door that allowed him some privacy. He wasn't handcuffed anymore and they had let him keep his own clothes on – which meant the fake uniform – even if they had taken from him every electronic device they had been able to find – which meant he still had a couple of ways to communicate with Jarvis, since they hadn't even searched him properly, whether out of ingenuity or respect he didn't know.

He was sure there were cameras which monitored and recorded his every move, though, and with the knowledge that his imprisonment would be temporary anyway, he had preferred remaining inside that too white cell without attempting an escape.

He started drumming his fingers on his Reactor without hiding a grimace.

The only unbearable side of his actual situation was the boredom, because after Hill and her group of agents had brought him there, leaving him alone without a word, no one else had come.

He wasn't truly worried. Not even S.H.I.E.L.D. could hope to keep him there, but he suspected that Fury knew that as well as he did and so he was postponing the moment of confrontation just to spite him and bore him to death.

“You could have teleported me away with you, instead of being an ass and leaving me here to get caught, you know?” he muttered, without looking at anything in particular.

There was no answer, not that he had expected one. But he wouldn't exactly be surprised if the god had remained close by.

Hill and her guards had found him with the taste of Loki still on his lips, the euphoria of having discovered that the connection with the god – as foolish and insane as that was – hadn't truly been broken, and the frustration of having a painful hard-on inside his boxers with no one to take care of it. At his feet, Schmidt's dead body had caused more turmoil than his own presence.

He had let them put him into cuffs without any rebellion, only protesting when they got interested in his suit, still half in that fake briefcase.

“Just try to touch it and you'll trigger the self-destruct mechanism. I don't want to be held responsible if this building is blown up because one of you was so dumb as to put their hands where they shouldn't,” he had warned as soon as a couple of agents had come closer to his suit.

“He's lying, there's no bomb.”

“Then why don't _you_ touch it, Hill?”

In the end, they had allowed him to put the suit back into the briefcase form and then made him carry it to a protected storage room – not that he was worried, since he was sure that Jarvis would manage to bring the suit back to the Tower, or in the worst case scenario, to destroy it, if S.H.I.E.L.D. decided to play dirty and foolishly tried to open it.

And that brought him to his actual situation: no fear of consequences, but only a deep, deadly boredom.

For the umpteenth time his mind recalled the conversation he had had with the god, savoring every tiniest detail, every inflection of his voice, every single word.

After whole days, it was like he was able to breathe again without a weight on his chest, without that mix of resentment and bitterness that had kept him company for so long, because even if Loki had been an asshole – he could still feel that iron grip on his throat and the cruel words the god had used to torment him and that psychopathic mind violating his own, the magic devouring his nerves in a blazing agony, too hard knuckles leaving bloody marks on his cheeks – he hadn't tried to kill him.

That knowledge changed everything. He still wanted to test his prototype against the god, to show that capricious bastard the superiority of science over magic, to exact a revenge he had been yearning for since his almost death. But he didn't hate Loki, and the memory of the god pushing him down the roof wasn't a painful throb beneath the Reactor anymore.

Now he only had to get out of there, schedule a briefing with his teammates, or at least to the ones he still wanted to talk to, given who S.H.I.E.L.D. had kept prisoner without telling him anything and the recent fight with Rogers, and make a plan for their future actions, keeping in mind that there was still the possibility of an unlikely alliance.

It was time Tony took the situation into his own hands.

 

 

“Stark.”

“Lonely Eye.”

For a moment, Fury felt the tempting urge to open the cell where the most annoying thorn in his side was being kept and punch him until his sarcastic smile disappeared in a gush of blood. He pursed his lips, taking a deep breath, but together with the growing irritation he also recognized a pang of relief because Stark was more lively and combative than he had seen him since his return.

“I'm giving you one chance to explain your actions before I incriminate you for aggression of military personnel, violation of a high security building and first degree murder.”

“And I'm giving you one chance to let me out with your most heartfelt apologies, so that you'll be able to keep your position as a director without making an ass of yourself in front of the whole world and without losing my precious funding. High security?” Stark snorted, and Fury felt even more prone to strangle him. “I've seen malls with more accurate controls.”

He tightened the fists that he was hiding behind his back. It was upsetting that the security of that base had been violated with such ease, even if the one who had done it was nothing like a common man. He was dangerous, as Romanoff had always said and as he himself had always considered Stark, and yet, probably because of it, he was also a fundamental asset, especially when there were other dangers looming on Earth.

He forced himself to swallow his rage at the confrontation where he felt he had his hands tied, and then he tried to attack from another side.

“Are you siding with Loki?” he asked abruptly.

It had been too easy to associate the ice knives that had been found on Schmidt's corpse to the god, but the lack of video feeds left him blind to what had truly happened in that cell. Stark sent him a smile full of contempt.

“That would be your great hypothesis?”

“You're not denying it.”

“Maybe because I enjoy leaving you in doubt more.”

Fury lifted his hands to massage his temples with a sigh. Between Barton, who still showed towards him an hostility that bordered on actual insubordination, the Council, that had tightened its grip on S.H.I.E.L.D., and now that last event, his position was becoming more and more precarious. But a war was coming, one that would eclipse New York's fight against the Chitauri, and he couldn't allow it.

“No more bullshit, Stark. Now you're gonna tell me everything that happened since you broke into this building. And what happened with Loki when you were his prisoner.”

“Or what, Nick?”

“You were found alone with a dead body at your feet. Not a good situation.”

Stark shrugged.

“Come on, then, incriminate me. Let's see what the world thinks of the fact that you've been keeping a war criminal here. A Nazi super villain, coddled and kept warm in a cell without anyone knowing.”

“That's not how it works.”

The smile Fury received back as an answer was sharp, like it belonged to a shark.

“Are you thinking of making me disappear?”

“I have to admit I'm tempted.”

Stark shook his head and when he returned to staring at him he was serious again. Serious and hostile and ready to fight, like he didn't remember him being since the Chitauri invasion.

“You need me, for this war. You need my funds, you need my tech. So don't fuck with me, because we both know that I'm fundamental to you.”

“You would be, but only if you were ready to cooperate. Breaking in here to kill one of my prisoners made you an enemy. Do you have any ideas of the consequences that-”

“He deserved to die,” Stark interrupted him, his voice shaking with rage and another emotion that had hardened his eyes.

Fury realized it immediately; he didn't even need to ask him. The casualties Romanoff told him about in her report. A half dozen children, their corpses scattered around together with other civilians and the scientists' bodies.

“He was giving us some precious information,” he said with an even voice, hiding all his emotions.

“If you and your organization are really able to do your job as you used to say, then you should already have all the information you need.” Stark came closer to the glass wall, his hands hidden inside the pockets of his trousers, even if from the taut line of his shoulders and his rigid body it was clear that he had closed his fingers into fists. “Since when did you have him in your hands? And how long did you and the two spies of yours want to keep him hidden from me?”

“Your actions showed me that keeping him hidden from you was the right decision.”

Stark blinked, and something passed through his eyes, so fleeting and burning that Fury was sure he would lift one of his hands and punch the glass between them. It was what Stark wanted to do, to attack and destroy, he could read it in his gaze that was focused on him like it were looking at an enemy. After a few seconds of too heavy silence, though, the tension broke abruptly.

“I came here to kill Schmidt, but Loki anticipated me. When I arrived, everything had already ended.” Stark took a couple of steps back, his body relaxed again, even if there was still a dark hint of rage in his expression, together with that conviction that made him so dangerous. “I'm going to be reintegrated in the team. With no limitations and in full autonomy. Take it or leave it, I accept no compromises in this.”

Fury stared at him from head to toe, more because he needed time to reflect than because he didn't think he was serious enough with his ultimatum. Stark showed the dark circles around the eyes that came with too little sleep and even less nights without nightmares. He was too unpredictable, an asset who could both ruin them or be the decisive factor in the fight against the alien tyrant.

In the end, he nodded.

“But no missions where there are hostages.”

“Okay. For now,” Stark hurried to point out, before turning his back on him and waving his right hand like a dismissal. “You can send Hill or some other agent to bring me my personal effects and a coffee while I wait for you to swallow your pride and open the door of this annoyingly white box.”

Fury contained the impulse to both punch Stark in the face and to let him go free, so that he would at least be out of his sight. Despite the growing headache, though, the most rational part of his mind felt it could relax a little for the first time after what seemed entire months.

“I'm not finished.” He waited in vain for Stark to turn around. “Loki. Did you two meet?”

“I won't tell you anything else until I'm back in the Tower again.”

Again there was a long silence, then Fury grimaced, resigning himself to pressing the code that would open the cell door.

“Stark,” he said, his hand still hovering over the buttons.

This time, Tony turned around and for once he didn't say anything. Fury gave him a brief nod.

“Welcome back.”

 


	3. Chapter 2: Home sweet home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for my long hiatus, those evil finals really kept me busy. Now, though, they're finally over and I passed them both, meaning that I'm only a thesis away from my degree! So, I'm back and ready to update again with some regularity. Thank you so much for your comments and support <3 And of course, special thanks to my beta Nyaed who corrected this chapter too. 
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy your reading.

**Chapter 2: Home sweet home**

 

It was night when he arrived at the tower.

Despite having warned him of his return, he wasn't actually surprised that Tony wasn't there, waiting for him in the hall, since he was probably still in the lab, but when Pepper emerged from the elevator and walked towards him at a brisk pace, lips reddened for a different reason than lipstick and with twitchy fingers, he couldn't avoid tensing.

“Bruce, I'm so glad you're back!”

She walked towards him, while Bruce felt the knot in his throat growing bigger at each of her steps. Pepper was beautiful and desperate at the same time: her eyes were wary, full of anxiety, her body was taut and her hair was unusually messy, like she had passed her hands through it more than once during that night, not caring if she ruined her look.

She was just a little more composed than the last time he had seen her, and the thought that he had run away, a thought that had been a lingering torment at the edge of his mind during the last days, hit him abruptly at full force.

“What happened?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice calm and leveled.

He wanted to hug her, to comfort her in a deeper way than with mere words, but Pepper had stopped two feet away from him and he already knew that following his impulse would only create other complications.

“Tony. He's been arrested by S.H.I.E.L.D..”

“Are you kidding?”

Pepper shook her head. She took a deep breath, looking like she was about to say something, then her eyes met the help desk station, where a receptionist was browsing through some papers, and closed her mouth again.

“I'll accompany you upstairs,” she said instead.

Bruce nodded and followed her into the elevator without complaining. Even if the receptionist was far enough away not to hear them, he felt the need for some privacy too, given how serious the subject was. He waited for the elevator doors to close before letting out a sigh.

“What happened?”

Far from the world that knew her as the unshakable CEO of Stark Industries, Pepper let her serious expression fallen, replaced by a hint of desperation.

“I don't know. This afternoon Jarvis warned me that Tony had just been surprised in a S.H.I.E.L.D. building and that Maria Hill was arresting him.” Her eyes lingered on him. They were dry, but Bruce felt a pang inside his chest anyway, remembering when he had left her to face that situation alone, without anyone to support her. “I don't even know what Tony was doing there, or if Fury really wants to incriminate him.”

“What does Jarvis say?”

Pepper shook her head.

“He doesn't want to tell me anything. He says that the less I know, the less I would be implicated in case what happened ended up in courthouse.” Despite her anxiety, she let out a half smile. “I bet it was Tony who ordered him to say that.”

“I think the same.”

The elevator stopped just when the silence was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

It was Bruce who exited first, reaching the common area without seeing any of his teammates.

“What about the others?”

“Thor is still on Asgard, Steve and Clint are down in the gym and Natasha is on her own floor.”  
“Do they know?”

“No. I don't know what to do. I thought to ask Clint, but he's still a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent after all, isn't he?” She started tormenting her already reddened lower lip with her teeth. “If only I knew why he was there, I could have a starting point from which to make a decision.”

Bruce tensed, while a realization froze his chest.

“Schmidt.”

“What?”

“He found Schmidt. When I called him yesterday, Tony was violating a S.H.I.E.L.D. server. He must have discovered that Fury was keeping Schmidt as a prisoner.”

Pepper paled so abruptly that he took a step forward, ready to support her.

“Is he still alive?” she asked Bruce with a strangled voice, like talking was taking too much effort for her.

“Yes. We found him enclosed in ice when we broke into Hydra's base where Tony had been held. Apparently, the serum allowed Schmidt to survive the freezing, since once S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists managed to get rid of the ice he was still alive and recovered completely.”

He didn't know how it was possible, but Pepper paled even more.

“He's going to kill him.”

There was no need for clarification. Bruce felt his own heart increasing its beating, the Hulk raging just at the edge of his consciousness.

“Are you sure?”

A stupid question, he knew it already, because there weren't any other reasons for Tony to break into S.H.I.E.L.D., but killing a prisoner in cold blood wasn't like killing in a fight. They weren't at war, and Tony wasn't a murderer.

Pepper breathed deeply, then shook her head.

“I saw what he did.” She swallowed hard. “When you went away, I asked Jarvis what had happened with Schmidt. Tony was drinking a lot, way more than usual, like he wanted to kill himself, and I didn't know how to help him. And then, Jarvis showed me. What that bastard did to Tony.”

Her voice broke and Bruce managed to stop himself before asking the question that was echoing in his mind. Instead, he gingerly placed one hand on her shoulder. It was hot in the tower, but she was shivering.

“Pepper.”

She tensed, averting her eyes. Then she met his eyes again, and the layer of tears that had clouded her gaze was gone, replaced by a resolute expression.

“If Tony managed to kill Schmidt before S.H.I.E.L.D. stopped him, we must be ready to face a charge of first degree murder.”

Bruce struggled to ignore the discomfort at the thought of Tony killing someone in cold blood.

“I don't think they're going to charge him, even if....” He stopped before finishing the sentence, but Pepper wasn't a fool, she would have no trouble reaching the same conclusions.

“They are going to use it to blackmail him and have some sort of control over him, and Tony is not a killer, this will des-”

“Miss Potts,” a familiar voice interrupted her, “Mister Stark has regained his freedom and will arrive at Stark Tower in seventeen minutes.”

Pepper lifted her head.

“Is he alright?”

“Better than the usual. If I may say so, I find him to be in a really good mood for the first time since he has been back.”

And when Pepper and Bruce crossed their gazes again, in an astonished silence, neither of them could find anything to say.

 

 

Tony reached the landing point on his tower forty seconds before the initial assessment. He wasn't truly surprised when he was welcome by two pairs of familiar eyes.

“Hello, Pep. And welcome back, Bruce, you've showed some excellent timing, considering I'm about to start a meeting with all my beloved teammates.” He walked towards them while his suit was being disassembled piece after piece, finding his smile without having to fake it. “Jarvis, call the other Avengers. We have a lot to discuss.”

“As you wish.”

He was only a couple of feet away from them when he stopped.

Bruce was nervous, Tony only had to look at him to realize he was struggling to keep his control and at the same time had at least a couple of dozen questions for him. Pepper seemed like she had been turned to stone.

“So? No welcome back speech?”

For a few too long moments, the only answer he received was a dumbfounded silence. Then Bruce sighed before the tense expression on his face was replaced by a friendly relief.

“Well, did we become a tower of outlaws?”

Bruce hadn't told him anything about Schmidt, but hadn't kept it hidden from him either, not like the others, and now he had said 'we', with a shadow of a smile, despite the worry still present in his eyes.

Tony smiled back and was surprised by the pleasant warmth spreading inside his chest, something different than the resentment or the need for solitude he had been expecting.

“Not yet, I'm sorry.”

“And are you okay?”

“Better than the last time you asked me.”

The relief on Bruce's face became more evident, even if he was still looking at Tony like he was searching for an hidden wound.

“I'm glad to hear that.”

“The other Avengers have been notified, sir. Should I tell them what this is about?”

“No, just send them to the common floor; I prefer keeping them on their toes.”

Bruce hesitated for a moment before taking a step away.

“Then I'll wait for you with the others,” he said before leaving Tony to face his CEO alone.

Like she had just waited for that moment, Pepper was upon him in the blink of an eye, her fingers closed into two tiny fists.

“You were arrested without telling me anything.”

“Pepper, I can explain.”

Judging from her expression, he was ready to receive a slap. Instead, she hugged him without any warnings, like she had done the day he had returned. Tony felt something clenching inside his chest. He had made Pepper worried again, as he always did. She had spent more hours full of fears and wrinkles and anguish, all for him.

This time, however, her hug wasn't a contact that burnt him with the need to run away.

He hugged her back, closing his eyes for some precious moments. No upcoming wars, no controversial thoughts about psychopathic gods, no blood or children's bodies, no teammates that had almost become enemies.

Only Pepper, his tower, and the feeling that he had truly come back home.

She was the one who took a step back first, without letting him go, only to search for his eyes.

“Are you really okay?”.

Tony smiled.

“Yes.” And it wasn't a lie.

“And Schmidt?”

“Not as much.” As soon as he felt her tensing, Tony let her go, lifting his hands in surrender. “Not thanks to me. I was anticipated. When I reached his cell, that son of a bitch was already dead.”

Pepper frowned.

“Fury?” she asked, after a moment of thinking.

Tony shook his head.

“Loki. That smug bastard is even more egocentric than I am, and it seems he took it personally that a pathetic mortal managed to survive after a fight against him.”

Pepper made a strangled sound.

“Loki.”

Tony tried to hide a smile, but the image of the god sitting on the cot, with Schmidt's body at his feet and such a damned pleased expression plastered on his face, was hard to push away.

“Right.”

“Loki,” Pepper said again, like she was still trying to understand that information. “The same Loki that kept you prisoner and pushed you down a roof.”

Tony nodded, feeling the first pang of guilt.

“About that... he wasn't seriously trying to kill me.”

“Did _he_ tell you that?”

“Actually yes.” He barely stopped himself from passing a hand through his hair. “Come on, Pep, I found myself in a cell with him and with my suit still in briefcase form. I can assure you that if Loki wanted me dead, now you would be the owner of Stark Industries.”

Pepper's face showed a mix of worry and incredulity, and then something shiny appeared in her eyes, which made him terrified at the possibility of seeing her burst into tear.

“You made me your heir?”

“Well, yes. You. Also Bruce, a little. Something to Happy and Rhodey. Speaking of that, I have to remove those two ungrateful spies from my will and add an anal vibrator for Capsicle, so that he could experiment with something more enjoyable than the stick he has already there. Jarvis, are you taking notes?”

“I've recorded everything, sir.”

Pepper still had wet eyes when he dared to look at her again, but that moving moment was already being replaced by a too sharp gaze.

“So, Loki.”

“Yes.”

And really, Tony didn't know if it would be worse to see her crying or to face her eyes and all the thoughts he was trying so hard to avoid.

“Who waited for you to be there before killing Schmidt,” she continued, with an accusing voice that made it clear what her thoughts were regarding the whole event.

Tony felt the urge to take a step back.

“Not waiting, let's say that I arrived when he had just finished.”

“And don't you think he was trying to frame you?”

“No, he left too evident hints that he had been the one who killed the bastard.” The skeptic expression Pepper showed him made him almost pout. “What? You know he's a huge diva. He could never accept that someone else took credit for his killing.”

Pepper frowned.

“Do you realize that you're thinking like him? That you're _understanding_ him?”

“Only because I spent a few days as his roommate.” He shrugged, before realizing a truly worrying detail. “How could you know where I was and what I was doing? It was Jarvis, wasn't it?”

“I thought Miss Potts had the right to be informed, at least regarding the less dangerous details of your situation,” the AI interfered before Pepper could answer.

“You're thinking a little too much for my taste.”

“You created me this way.”

“Jarvis did well to warn me,” Pepper said. She was about to add something more, but then she placed one hand on his arm, her expression softening. “Just promise me that you won't do something so reckless again?”

Tony felt the absurd urge to caress her cheek. Not to kiss her or to take her into his arms, only to give her a gesture of consolation and affection at the same time, maybe to apologize for the too many times he had troubled and hurt her.

“Would you believe me?”

She sighed and pulled her hand back.

“No. But could you at least try to remain alive?”

“I thought you would push me towards some extreme sports or dangerous hobbies like feeding sharks or stealing the Helicarrier. You know, now that you are aware of what my will says.”

Pepper couldn't hold back a smile.

“I prefer waiting for a little longer before becoming rich.” Her smile became almost a grin. “And truthfully, all those activities sound a lot safer than what you already do.”

Tony would have protested, if only Pepper's expression hadn't been so eloquent. He answered with a throat-clearing and some noncommittal noises.

“I guess you have your meeting to think about, now,” she said, after a while.

“Do you want to eavesdrop? I bet Jarvis would have nothing against it.”

Pepper shook her head.

“It's better if I stay out of it. You're the heroes, not I.” She walked past, so close she almost brushed against him. “Try not to spend the whole night awake.”

Tony felt a sudden urge to speak burning his throat.

“Pepper,” he called her, waiting for her to turn around before finding the strength to continue with no more irony or smiles. “If Loki hadn't done it, I would. I would have killed him.”

She looked at him with the same serious expression.

“I know.”

“And you don't have anything to say?”

“I would have understood.” Pepper spoke with a low, barely audible voice, but there was no room for doubt in her words. ”Even if I wouldn't have agreed with it, I would have understood. But you are not a killer, Tony. And I'm happy you didn't have to become one.”

She left after one last ghost of a smile, and Tony remained alone in the penthouse, struggling against an unexpected knot in his throat.

 


	4. Chapter 3: Settling things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this is an unbetaed chapter. My beta is quite busy and I didn't want to make you wait anymore for the update. I only hope it's readable enough. Of course, once I'll receive the corrected chapter, this one will be replaced. In the meanwhile, enjoy your reading and thank you so much for your comments and kudos!

**Chapter 3: Settling things**

 

They were all sitting around the table when Tony reached them.

Natasha and Clint on one side, close enough to brush against each other, Steve at the end of the table, Bruce a little isolated on the free side, the only one who seemed calm and collected, since the Widow was as still as a statue and the other two Avengers kept sending nervous glances around.

Choosing the opposite chair to Capsicle and shifting it for a few inches towards his best friend was the obvious move.

“Tony! How are you?”

He smiled at Steve without actual warmth, because the knuckles of his right hand were still aching and that was the first time they faced each other since the last encounter, when the Captain had told him he was out from the team and Tony had thrown him out from his floor.

“Never been better.”

“Why did you tell Jarvis to send us here? Not that I was sleeping, but among us there's someone of a certain age that at this hour should be in bed.”

The archer had spoken with a forced light voice, a clear proof that he knew. Fury must have warned Natasha, who then had told him everything. And there was the hint of mocking Capsicle in what had become his and Tony's habit, a joke between the two of them that made Steve sigh and Natasha look like an exasperated Pepper. Clint had pronounced it with a sort of spontaneity, even if his eyes didn't leave Tony's, like a not too evident offer for peace.

_Not this time, Clint._

“I thought it was the right moment to make some plans for our future actions. At least, with the Avengers that I still like.” Tony let his gaze wander between the archer and the assassin, before giving the back to them. “The two spies are out, so it's down to us. How do we organize ourselves for the arrival of the big bad alien?”

“What? Did you send us here only to exclude us?” Clint burst out.

Tony gave him an emotionless glance, not caring of the outrage written on his face.

“Exactly.”

Natasha was still as unperturbed as ever, a silent, unreadable figure that hadn't stopped looking at him. For Tony, she could study him as much as she liked, he had no intentions of deigning her of another glance.

“ _You shouldn't drink so much,”_ she had told him, like she really cared.

And all that time she  _knew_ and she had kept it hidden from him, she had let him believe that Schmidt was dead without saying a word, not even when Tony had affirmed the bastard's death out loud, in the attempt to make it more real. She hadn't said anything. And Clind hadn't said anything either.

He was so tempted to threw them both out of his tower, the archer that was looking for excuses and answers Tony didn't even want to listen to and the assassin with her emotionless eyes, that he almost didn't notice Capsicle's confusion.

“Wait a minute, Tony. What's going on? You can't participate to the missions, don't you remember...?”

Tony looked for a moment at his mouth, unharmed lips, perfect teeth, not even a sign of his fist, as there hadn't been any a couple of days after their fight.

“And now you're out too, not that I expected something different.” He turned his chair completely, so that he was facing the only friendly face of that meeting. “Well, Bruce, it seems only the brains of the group have remained. Plus Thor, when he'll be back.”

And to be honest, he didn't really want to work with Thor either, not until he had his mind full of images of what had to be Loki's childhood, but he would think later at that.

“You can't expel us from the team, Tony,” Steve complained. He still hadn't lost his unsureness, even if he had started using the righteous leader voice, the same voice he had used when he had judged him the first time they had met.

Tony had forgotten how much he could hate him.

He found his best smile, gifting him with the same hypocrisy he used to feed the press with.

“I'm not expelling you. I'm creating my own team. You can do whatever you want. Of course with _your_ technology and _your_ money.”

“We did nothing wrong,” the Widow interfered.

“Finally you decided to stop being a statue and deigning us of your words.” Tony gave Natasha a mocking gesture of his hands, like he was presenting her to an audience. “Well, then, let's see how you will try to manipulate me, this time.”

She crossed her arms on her chest without changing her expression.

“I have no intentions of manipulating you, Tony, because this time you are wrong. Yes, we kept from you something that could have upset you and pushed you to act in a foolish way.” Her voice became low, a whisper with an edge of a threat. “And there's nothing wrong in that.”

Tony returned serious immediately.

“No, but there's something very wrong when I have to thank Loki for something that my _friends_ thought well to not tell me.”

Even without turning, Tony knew that the eyes of everyone were now all focused on him.

“So you did meet him.”

“One point for you, Romanoff. I knew that Nick had already informed his two two-faced wonder twins.”

“We are not two-faced,” Clint grumbled.

“What now, Merida? You're the only one who can show his resentment? Loki violated your mind and so you're justified in swearing gruesome vengeance, but if I want to give a Nazi what he deserves, then suddenly that's not right anymore?”

The archer stood up abruptly, sending his chair screeching back for a couple of feet.

“Don't you dare bring out that son of a bitch! It's you, with your fucking ego, that can't see things from an impartial point of view and don't understand we were just doing a favor to you!”

Tony stood up too, while the peace he had felt at his return, first with Bruce and than with Pepper, was being replaced by an anger that filled his throat.

“A favor?” His hands were trembling, his skin burnt in need to be covered by his suit and he could already feel the blood staining his hands, it was there, children's blood that he could never wash away. “You lied to me. You kept from me the fact that your precious Director is pampering a war criminal, after all what the bastard had done!”

Natasha grabbed Clint from one arm and forced him to sit back. She still had her emotionless face, that was more and more out of place at every second.

“Maybe, if you had told us for real what Schmidt had done to you, we could have seen things even from your point of view.”

Tony shifted his gaze from the archer to her, the grip on his chest so tight and painful he felt like he was suffocating.

“Keep going, just keep going. I really want to throw both of you out from my tower.”

Natasha met his eyes, unperturbed.

“Do it, then. But it doesn't change the fact that we acted that way only to help you and that we should stay united for this war.”

“You said it. Jarvis.”

“Sir?”

“Tony, you're reacting in an extreme way.”

“Don't interfere, Capsicle. Or do you want to be thrown out too?”

A movement from his right side stopped him just as he was about to make his threats real.

“Maybe it's better if we take a break so that we all calm down a little,” Bruce commented.

He was standing too, now, but he had spoken with a placid voice and, on the contrary of what had happened with Natasha, his calm didn't give Tony the urge to suit up and destroy something. Instead, he took a deep breath, opened his fingers, realizing that they had almost wounded his own palms, and finally let himself fall down onto his chair, devoid of all his energy.

“Tony, I understand that you are hurt, but believe me, no one wanted to deceive you,” Bruce went on.

Tony gave him a bitter smile.

“You mean, apart from following Fury's order instead of being loyal to a teammate?”

And that thought burnt, because somehow, despite everything, he had really started to consider them his friends.

“Fury has nothing to do with it. They were worried about you. We all were.” Bruce sighed, slowly sitting down, his eyes still focused on him. “And we didn't know how you would react at the discovery of Schmidt as S.H.I.E.L.D. prisoner.”

“Would you have lied to me too?”

“No, but I don't always do the right thing. And Natasha is right. We are a team, we must work together, not fighting against each other.” He attempted a smile. “Come on, I manage to keep the Other Guy at bay, and you can't solve things peacefully?”

Not even with all of his will did Tony manage to smile back. He passed one hand on his face, so tired it almost hurt. He only wanted a bed, a glass of scotch and just the AC/DC to fill the silence of a welcome solitude.

“We are not a team. We were once, or maybe we were just pretending.”

Natasha stretched her arm towards him, brushing against his left shoulder with fingers as light as a feather.

“We are a team, Tony. We escaped from a S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital as a team, and we searched for you as one. And now that you're back, we are a complete team again, what the Earth needs to survive.”

That was too easy.

He was about to tell something ironical and probably hurtful, but then something clicked inside his mind. Clint had brought out his ego, and maybe he had been right, because until that moment Tony had never tried to be in their shoes. He had had it worse, but they had lost a teammate and had been searching for him for more than a month, all the while knowing he had been in two dangerous enemies' clutches. All the while worrying and having S.H.I.E.L.D. to deal with, and Steve that was looking at him with guilt in his eyes, not with accuses like he had thought.

They hadn't had it easy either and he hated when he felt he was the one in the wrong.

He repressed a grimace, while lifting his eyes to meet Natasha's ones. As always they were sincere, because Black Widow was so good at lying that she was able to suggest the truth through her face and her voice even while she was telling the most obvious lie. But Tony was tired to suspect and to treat who was around him as an enemy.

He should accept her words or send everyone away and surround himself in silence.

From Natasha, he shifted his gaze to Clint, who had a grimace but as soon as he met his eyes relaxed a little. Then to Steve, pale and unsure, that looked back at him with a brief hesitation that shouldn't belong to him. In the end, to Bruce. The man with the Hulk within that made Tony feel like a childish, irrational teen. The man who had managed to solve a fight with only a few words and that now was silently asking him to not start it over. His best friend and maybe the best person among them all.

And then, remaining seated was simply too much. He stood up and reached the bar in the corner, pouring himself a glass of scotch. Two fingers, not more, only a few sips he hoped would silence his doubts and the remnant of resentment and the blood of the children that were still poisoning his mind. He turned around to face his teammates again only when he had the strong taste of alcohol burning his throat.

“Let's say that I agree to put the past behind us. So, you stay here, I'll try to not punch Capsicle anymore, and we really try to make us function as a team. The first time you keep something from me, you're out. Not from the Avengers, but from my tower and my life. Is that better?”

Bruce frowned and Clint and Steve were just about to say something that would surely be a protest, but Natasha sent him a smile.

“I'll say it's a great start.” She stood up and went closer to him, serving herself a glass of scotch too. “Well then, since now we are friends again and have an agreement of utter sincerity among us, how about telling us how the encounter with Loki went?”

Tony hesitated until he emptied his glass in two sips.

But she was right, he wanted a team he could trust. _Well played, Romanoff._

“The bad news is that I wasn't able to kill Schmidt. The first good news is that Loki did it, just before I arrived, and given Schmidt's expression it wasn't a merciful death. But you already know that, don't you?”

“Actually I didn't,” Steve commented, before looking around himself and laying his eyes on Clint and Natasha.

“Welcome to the club, Capsicle. It's such a pleasure to feel excluded, isn't it?”

“Tony,” Bruce warned him, but Steve made a gesture to let it go.

“No, it's not. And the other good news?”

“The other good news is that he didn't want me dead for real, or now I wouldn't be here with you.”

“And what happened?”

“We came to an understanding. He apologized and begged me to talk to him again, and since I'm terribly magnanimous I decided to forgive him.”

And if that bastard showed up in his tower an hour or two later, maybe Tony could even forgive him the blue balls Loki had left him with.

Not that he truly believed in his arrival, but he didn't think the god would keep far away from him forever.

Sooner or later, they would hear about him again, which probably would bring a lot of troubles. Of that, Tony was sure.

 

 

 

“We came to an understanding. He apologized and begged me to talk to him again, and since I'm terribly magnanimous I decided to forgive him.”

He grinned at Stark's words.

So that was the mortal's version.

He would enjoy revealing himself only to belie him and then showing what had truly happened in the cell. Grabbing him from his throat and slamming him down to the table and then fucking him and giving him pleasure and claiming him as his own under the eyes of his teammates, so that they would know who Stark belonged to. But his appearance would only unleash complications he didn't have the time to follow.

The Avengers were all around the table again, aside from Thor.

He reduced his eyes into two cracks while staring at the beast. He was wearing his fake human skin, now, a mortal with an awkward smile that was attempting to make himself look smaller, like he was used to try to look the least threatening and the least notable he could. It was him that Stark was giving the most part part of his attention and consideration, though.

The captain of that group of false heroes was showing an unexpected caution, choosing the silence when he usually was the first one to speak on the battlefield, to defy their enemies or to shout orders. An interesting development, since it seemed that it was his mortal the reason Rogers was so wary.

While he listened to them debating which powers Thanos possessed, he almost burst into laughter. Naïve, ignorant mortals, who tried to give a name to something that was only pure death and dread. He could help them, more than Thor. He could appear among them and reveal what kind of horror was about to doom their Reign, with all the vividness and the details that no second handed narration could possess.

He suppressed a shiver, but his hand had already stretched out, a second away from calling for his scepter, and his his shoulders were tense, his muscles ready to spring into action.

He breathed out slowly, lowering his arm.

Soon he would have to walk again towards his nightmares, to discover how much time they still had left. But not now.

He pressed his back against the wall, his eyes wandering again on the too many people that were in the room.

Now he only wanted the end of that meeting so that he could play a little with his mortal.

 


	5. Chapter 4: A vivid green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry for the wait. I'm in the frustrating situation where I'd like to write all the time, but my shoulder is killing me because of too much time spent sitting at my pc (it uses to do that, since I suffer from shoulder ache, and I hate it), so I can't write as much as I want. Anyway, here it's the new chapter. I hope you'll like it even if it's short and I'll try to translate the next one (it's almost finished) soon.
> 
> Thank you so much for your kudos and comments, and special thanks to my beta Nyaed!

**Chapter 4: A vivid green**

 

“Say what you want, but it seems like bullshit to me to plan a defense when we don't even know what powers the enemy has.”

Tony shook his glass of scotch slightly – it was his second, but Pepper wasn't there and two glasses were nothing too extravagant, since they wouldn't be enough to turn him into that drunk, desperate mess he had been a few days previously – before hinting a smile.

“It seems our chaffinch possesses some working neurons after all.”

Clint gave him the finger, but the grimace on his face wasn't truly hostile.

“So what would you suggest?” Steve asked.

He was still unsure while talking to him, and Tony hadn't decided yet whether he liked that new behavior or not.

“Something simple. Now that we've decided how to act in emergency situations and all agreed it would be better if we tried to erase the threat before it reached Earth, we can only hope that Fury does his job with the governments and wait for a divine consultation.”

“Thor said he would return as soon as he could,” Bruce commented.

“Which could mean a couple of months from now. As an alternative, I could always ask the other god we all know. The one with horns and the psychopathic profile.”

Despite expecting it, when all the eyes focused on him Tony felt something tingling at the back of his nape, the same sensation he experienced when he lied to Pepper about being present to his work meetings. It was the first time he felt it with someone else, though. At least none of his teammates had investigated further on him meeting Loki in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s cell. It seemed that having a fight with them where he had threatened to throw them out from his tower had had its advantages, given how cautious they all were now in his regards.

Even now, he could still see Capsicle reflecting on every word before expressing his perplexity, while Clint, who had darkened abruptly at his suggestion, still hadn't protested though it was clear that he was biting his cheek to suppress an angry reply. Bruce had a pensive gaze that probably meant a lot of questions, but he was too kind and sympathetic to interrogate him in front of everyone.

“Do you think he would accept the proposal of an alliance?” Natasha asked him, the only one who was still imperturbable.

“I'd rather throw myself off the Tower, bringing the asshole with me,” Clint grumbled, before the Widow silenced him with a warning glance.

Tony shrugged his shoulders.

“I don't know, but we could always try, right? Plus, he seemed pretty worried about that dangerous E.T. and he could use some help.”

Ignoring Legolas and his nonsensical belief –  _three to one that if you see him he's gonna defenestrate you again_ – he gave his glass another spin. He was just about to bring it to his lips when he froze, barely suppressing a gasp, because his beloved scotch was now a vivid green. He blinked twice, looking at the glass again. Now his drink was of the usual amber shade, but he was sure he had seen it as another color only a moment before.

The same color that characterized the magic and eyes of his favorite psychopath.

He swallowed in a drier than usual throat, trying to hold back a shiver. Loki was there, he had been there since who knew when, and the part of him that cared for his well-being struggled to remember the fight against his teammates and the following conversation, wondering if he had said something dangerous or offensive against the god. Nothing truly unforgivable, he was sure of that, because otherwise Rock of Ages would have already revealed himself and killed him in front of the other Avengers.

Of course there still was the tiny possibility that he was wrong and his own mind had played a trick on him after all the last tense hours...

He spun the glass again, like he expected for its content to return to green and give him the proof of his supposition.

“Tony?”

Natasha's soft voice startled him like bucket of icy cold water. All the Avengers were looking at him with different shades of worry on their faces, but considering the lack of hostility in their stances they must have not realized what had happened inside his glass.

He placed it on the table with a sigh.

“You know what? We can call it a day. It's late, Capsicle should have been in bed for at least three or four hours, and I have to recover after the horrendous torture your dear director inflicted upon me.”

Bruce and Steve turned immediately to face the two spies, the first with his lips tight and the clear expression of someone who was trying to keep his murderous alter ego in check, the latter with clear suspicion in his accusatory eyes. Tony felt an unexpected and pleasant warmth inside his chest at their reactions.

“What torture?” Clint asked, frowning in confusion, but Natasha was already smiling.

“They didn't lay a finger on you; you've been in a cell provided with a bed and regulated to an acceptable temperature for less than two hours.”

“Exactly. You have no idea how bored I was. I almost ended up crazy, or worse, regressed to a person with normal intelligence, like all of you minus Bruce.”

“Instead you're just your usual asshole self.”

“Well said, Legolas. So, you know how to reach your rooms, I'm going to bed and see you tomorrow.”

He reached the elevator, replying with a nod to the not perfectly polite goodnight wishes he received and, despite his hurry to go away from them and Natasha's too sharp eyes, he couldn't avoid feeling a little more part of a team.

“Jarvis, if by chance Loki was to appear somewhere in the tower, don't trigger the alarm,” he said as soon as he was sure nobody else would listen.

There was an hesitation, a clear sign that his AI wasn't happy about the declaration.

“Do you consider that to be sensible behavior, Sir?”

“Obviously not, but until Maleficent tries to mutilate me or worse, just pretend he's not here.”

“If you really are sure...”

“I am.”

When the elevator's door opened again, this time on his floor, his skin was almost tingling in anticipation, and there was a too fast beating against his Reactor, the same sensation he felt when he had to try one of his prototypes in a life and death situation.

He walked until he reached the exact center of his bar area, trying not to think of the different results that this night could have had.

“Rock of Ages, if you're here make a noise, or knock at the door, or moo, or something. Or just magic yourself in my bed, you still owe me some wonderful sex.”

He was tense even before he finished his sentence, ready to face a dangerous threat, maybe even an aggression, but there was nothing. With his stomach clenching in a not as pleasurable feeling, he just waited in silence, aware that at every second that passed the possibility of Loki appearing in his tower lessened and lessened.

He had been wrong. Nothing happened inside his glass, the green had been a joke of his own subconscious. Or Loki had played him again, making his scotch change color only to see how quickly he would get rid of his teammates, but with no intentions of revealing himself.

He grumbled a curse. Now he had little choice but to go to bed for real, already knowing that he wouldn't sleep easily. He was already in a bad mood, at least until he turned around and he saw him: Loki, sitting on his couch like he owned it, with a half full glass in his hand and a familiar grin plastered on his too satisfied face.

“And since when do I owe a mortal anything?” was his comment, which was pronounced with a hint of white teeth.

It was rather surreal to have him there, in his tower, on his personal floor, and with a stance that showed how comfortably at ease the god was, like he truly belonged there.

A not unpleasant shiver ran along his spine while he struggled to swallow through the knot in his throat, and then he smiled.

“Since you pulled a fast one on the man with whom you are madly in love?”

“In love? Do not be ridiculous, Stark.”

But he was looking at him, his attention and his eyes focused on him like nothing existed, while he stood up, the glass sent to who knew which dimension, and began walking towards him with elegant and threatening movements. He seemed like a predator with no hurries because he knew he had already captured his prey.

It wasn't love, Tony would have laughed at the mere thought of his words being taken seriously, but there was something between them anyway, a bond which was different than the one he would have had with an enemy, or with a one night fuck.

Again he found it difficult to swallow, then he lifted one hand to stop the god before he reached him.

“Halt, Rudolph! Now you're in my territory.”

Loki's eyes hardened, while his whole body tensed, his ease replaced by the taut muscles of a beast ready to make the final leap, this time not to play but to kill.

“And even if it were?”

Despite him not having moved anymore, it was clear that the god wasn't in a friendly mood anymore. Only with the appearance of this newborn hostility did Tony realize just how relaxed and almost peaceful his dangerous guest had been before his last comment.

“It is, so this time I'll be the one who tops.”

Loki's tension poured out of his body just as fast as it had appeared, leaving a smile in its place. A smile that Tony had started to know very well and that promised to make him scream in the most pleasant way.

“And what makes you think you have earned such a honor?”

Tony pointed at himself with both of his index fingers.

“Come on, have you looked at me? And, besides, you still have to be forgiven for the horrible prank of leaving me with Fury. Maybe I'm the one who doesn't want to grant you the honor to sex with me after all.”

Loki closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, appearing in front of him before Tony could realize he had moved. The hand that reached for his face was gentle, though, a light touch that was the most similar thing to a caress the god had ever granted him, even if the green inside his eyes was bright with malice and a challenge.

“Really?” he whispered, before strengthening his grasp a little to make Tony throw his head back and placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

Tony really tried to hide the shiver that contact gave him.

“Really,” he replied, with the most dignified and convincing voice he could manage while his fingers tightened into fist and trembled with the need to place themselves on the god's hips, to grab his ass, to seize his hair and force him to bare his neck with a tug, so that he could dig his teeth into that perfect pale skin.

Loki laughed, wild and amused, while his touch became harsher and more demanding.

“You should not lie before a god who has had whole centuries to sharpen his tongue.”

And then, with a grin, he descended to claim Tony's mouth.

 


	6. Chapter 5: Possession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Loki's PoV this time. Thank you for your comments and huge thanks to my beta Nyaed!

**Chapter 5: Possession**

 

He was his.

While he was preparing him slowly – because Stark was a mortal, even if he had endured torments that had been able to unsettle a god, his body was frail and he didn't want to hurt him, not until the pleasure would be enough to make Stark want it – and as he felt him tensing the muscles around his fingers between strangled curses that echoed in the welcome semi-darkness that surrounded the room, he didn't have any other way to define the scorching hot body under him, which was so ready to seek his touch and his mouth and to surrender to him.

He was his, even more than when he had chained him to bed, even more than when he had had him as a prisoner and there had been unsureness and a glimpse of fear contaminating the arousal in the mortal's eyes.

Loki had silenced him with a kiss, devouring his protests together with those absurd requests that Stark still proclaimed despite him already knowing that Loki would never grant them. While discovering again the mortal's taste, he had felt a pang that had been both excitement and concern simultaneously for how deeply he could feel the mortal.

_His, like no one had ever belonged to him._

He had made him surrender with a bite and one hand that had already been enveloping the proof of how Stark was waiting with at least the same measure of impatience as Loki, and at his first moan it had been easy to erase every single trace of rebellion from him, replacing his teeth with his tongue and starting to stroke his erection while savoring his every reaction.

“ _You know that this is an unfair means to end a discussion?”_

At that comment Loki had smiled, speeding up the movement of his hand to see how long it would take to make Stark begin to pant and steal away his ability to talk.

“ _There is no fairness between enemies.”_

The mortal had closed his eyes with what had seemed like a curse, moaning even through his sealed lips. Then he had suddenly grabbed his hair, trying to force him to lower his head so that they could kiss, while he pressed himself against Loki's hand.

“ _Like we're still enemies, Bambi,”_ he had exhaled in a breath against his lips.

At that point Loki had allowed him to start the kiss, to even have the control, because to see the mortal so ready to want him, to desire him without trying to hide it, had amplified that strange pang in his stomach. Undressing both Stark and himself and pushing him towards the bar while he was distracting him with his hands and mouth had taken the god only a few moments.

Stark had found himself naked and bent over the counter without having the time to protest.

Loki hadn't forced him, though, and even now the mortal was in that same position, suffocating moans and objections every time his fingers thrust into him.

He grinned while he tested his stubbornness.

He kept preparing him with his fingers, slowly and kindly, ignoring his own desire, because he had had whole centuries to learn patience, while Stark could only have had a few fleeting decades of experience.

And in the end he had had his victory.

At the umpteenth thrust, the mortal couldn't hold back a pant and then turned to glare at him.

“You're doing it on purpose, aren't you?” Another pant, followed shortly by a moan. “Damn you, Grimhilde.”

His hair was tousled, his cheeks hot from indignation and arousal that were visible even in the semi-darkness of the room, and he was desperately reaching towards the pleasure that Loki still didn't want to grant him. He was magnificent.

“I do not understand what you are talking about,” he replied, smiling when he gave another, deeper thrust.

Stark went back to place his head on the counter, muttering some unintelligible words that sounded like curses, before trying to press himself back against his hand, his body almost shivering in need.

“Loki,” he called, growled almost, but what had originally seemed like an order had instead ended up sounding desperate.

Not one of those strange, nonsensical epithets, not an ironical nickname, but his name.

“I thought you wanted to be on top,” he commented, imitating Stark's voice.

The mortal turned to look at him again with a frown and a suspicious expression even while he was panting.

“Why, you would let me?”

“Of course not.”

This time Stark didn't need to say his offenses out loud because they were all too readable on his face. He looked positively fuming.

“Just fuck me already before I decide to punch you like I've been tempted to do since several minutes ago.”

Loki pulled back his fingers with a grin.

“I was only waiting for your words, Stark.”

He thrust into him, grabbing his hips so tightly that his fingers left bruises. He had to call upon every ounce of the self-control he still had left to not surrender to the impulse to fuck him with no restraint because the mortal was tight and hot and far too perfect.

He closed his eyes, a weakness, he knew, but he did it anyway because despite not being in one of his lairs he could feel no threats or danger around him.

When he opened his eyes again, the mortal was so tense that he seemed about to snap.

He let go of his hip with one of his hands and placed it on Stark's sweaty back, still amazed that their relationship had changed so little now that the mortal was free.

Stark could have sent him away, or called for his teammates, or asked his invisible servant for help, and yet he was under him, bent over the counter with his fingers gripping its edge so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

“Stark?” Loki murmured.

Not being able to see his expression was an unbearable uncertainty.

The mortal tensed even more, and then he took a deep breath under Loki's hand, like he was collecting his strength.

“If you don't move, Bambi, I swear by some not horned god I'm gonna kill you.”

He let out a smile, which was half relief and half amusement, while his fingers wandered over Stark's warm back.

He wanted to mark him, with his teeth and with his nails, leaving deep, scaring wounds on his skin that would remain there forever to testify to his ownership on the mortal. Instead he only pursed his lips and started moving, one slow thrust after another, savoring the way Stark tensed and then followed his rhythm, pressing back against him in an attempt to have more and letting out some muffled sounds that were dangerously close to pleas.

It was intoxicating, and Loki wanted more.

He lowered his head until he was only a couple of inches away from his nape.

“Kill me? And, pray tell, how would you do that?”

The mortal glared at him, defying him even while he was so breathless.

“I'm a genius. I'll find a way,” he said, before a moan that was nothing like a curse escaped from his lips.

Loki smiled against his neck, welcoming that sound like it was a victory, while the hand on the mortal's back went to grab his cock and started stroking it.

“That would be interesting.”

When he saw Stark get ready to answer back, he gave a deeper thrust. He didn't want to let him talk, not now, because the pleasure in his veins was growing at every movement; it was hotter than should have have been possible in the cold body of a monster he possessed, and it brought with it a new satisfaction. Stark was at his mercy, in his own abode, while they were so close to those other warriors that were his sworn enemies.

Stark was his by his own choice.

He strengthened his grip on the mortal's hips, while his thrust became deeper and rougher and his other hand continued stealing moans from his lips. The mortal was hard and hot against his palm, the proof of how much he desired him.

A laughter arose in his throat and Loki managed to suppress it only barely, transforming it into a knot of surprise, pleasure, and pure and simple disbelief because Stark was pressing back against him, he was telling him through gritted teeth to go on and more and harder, and it was an order and maybe Loki should punish the mortal for it, but he didn't care, not while he could have him so warm and compliant under his body.  _So his._

He felt him coming into his hand with a strangled scream, his body tensing in pleasure.

_Mine._

And he came soon after, biting his shoulder until he almost draw blood.

For a moment, he thought of the other Avengers, of how they would look at his mark on Stark's skin, the proof he owned him, so vivid and red on his body. A temporary mark, he knew, but still enough to give him a sort of satisfaction, and he found himself smiling while he looked at it.

Trying to regain his breath, he lifted his upper body by his arms so that he wouldn't weigh down on the mortal trapping him face down on the counter – there was that contraption that resonated of power and blue, in Stark's chest, and he still didn't know how frail it was.

Then he simply remained staring at the mortal under him who was as breathless as he was and so exhausted that he still hadn't said a word.

In that moment, Loki didn't have the thought of Thanos poisoning his mind anymore. There wasn't room for the knowledge of time flowing too fast and fleeting, precious second after second, while the being who was able to annihilate whole universes was slowly coming closer; there wasn't even the monster hidden beneath his skin hissing threats and a desire for blood and destruction, nor the urge to hide in solitude where he wouldn't need anyone because a monster had no allies.

In the silence of a room that still held the echo of their pleasure, there was only the mortal.

He pulled back and again placed one of his hands on Stark's back, a few inches over his heart.

_Mine._

 


	7. Chapter 6: Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this time the chapter is longer than the last, but it's unbetaed, so please, let me know if it's not readable. And for once, a Loki's PoV again. I'd really like to know what you think of it XD
> 
> About next chapters, I fear I won't be able to update again until October or the end of the month. The showdown for my degree is approaching and I'm knee-deep in the writing of my thesis. Also, I'm slowly getting crazy. If I survive, see you on the end of the month! For now, thank you so much for your comments and kudos, I love them and you guys.
> 
> Enjoy your reading^^

**Chapter 6: Monsters**

 

“Three times,” were the mortal's first words, his voice a little rougher than the usual, with a still too rapid breath. “And the last one in my tower, nonetheless. You're terribly unfair, Rudolph.”

He seemed like he wasn't even able to support himself, so Loki grabbed him by his wrist and without a warning teleported both of them inside his bedroom.

“I have already told you what I think about you calling me with strange epithets”.

The mortal fell back onto the mattress with a sigh.

“And I told you I wanted to top, so now we're more or less even.”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“You still don't know me well enough that you have to ask?”

Despite Loki's will, his hard expression wavered, tempted by a grin.

“It shall be an interesting experiment to gag you, then.”

“Naa, you love my voice too much.”

And Loki would truly want to reply, but the mortal wasn't completely wrong. As much as his behavior was irritating and disrespectful, it was nothing like that unbearable sight of a broken man who only had Stark's appearances, during the first times with his prisoner.

His mortal, because now he truly was his, patted the free part of the mattress, giving him an inviting glance.

“You know there's room for you too, on this bed? And I promise I'll try to not molest you, so you are safe.”

This time he laughed.

“And you think you would be able to force me to do something I do not like?” In the blink of an eye he was above him, fingers around his wrists and eyes focused on the mortal's neck, where he could count the marks left by his own teeth. “You dare to think you have to reassure me?”

“There's no need to take everything in a personal way,” Stark muttered, trying in vain to free his hands.

With a smile, Loki kissed one of the marks, before letting him go. He sat down at his side, back against the wall, while the mortal was still lying on his back and now was glaring at him while he massaged his wrists.

“Remember me to not ever be gentle with you again.”

He didn't reply, he just looked around, studying a room he already knew from his visit when he had taken Stark's clothes and from the times he had teleported to the Tower, silent and invisible, to keep the mortal under control, during the last few days. Now it was almost strange to be there with Stark while he was aware of his presence and with a peaceful silence surrounding them.

Only after a few moments he returned his attention to him, since the mortal seemed like he was trying to catch his gaze.

There was no reasons to hesitate further and he could be kind enough to relieve him from the weight of starting an unpleasant conversation.

“Do you wanted to tell me something, Stark?”

The mortal sighed, sustaining his head with his hand to better look at him.

“Not that I would mind just a booty call, but there are things I wanted to discuss with you.”

“If your intentions are to offer me a ring, just know that according to Asgard's custom, you should humbly beg for my favors and bring me precious gifts, first.”

“Don't underestimate me. If I had a ring, I would take you out to dinner first.”

With the warm body of the mortal besides him and the satisfaction of the pleasant intercourse they had had and the sheer company of an old enemy, that now didn't hide how much he desired him, it was easy for Loki to gift him with a smile. It was a moment, before he decided to end that pretended calm.

“What do you want to know?”

Stark returned serious immediately, reminding him of one of the first times they meet, when the mortal had threatened him without even having a weapon.

“Thanos. We know he's arriving for sure, right?” Loki nodded, and Stark's gaze showed the same determination of a warrior ready to fight for his reign, it didn't matter how strong and invincible its enemy was. “Who else is going to come with him?”

“The Chitauri, but a lot more, this time. The ones I lead an year ago were only the vanguard of his army.”

Stark grimaced.

“Should I expect another portal?”

“No. Without the Tesseract it is not possible”

“And what about teleportation?”

“No magic users would be powerful enough to teleport all his army and Thanos himself for such a long distance. And I doubt he has someone powerful enough to use teleportation at his service, now.”

The mortal stretched his arm towards him, reaching for his hair. It was a gentle touch, fingers sliding through his locks, an unexpected caress that surprised him, but not in an unpleasant way.

“So, on the contrary of me, he doesn't have the Harry Potter winning card in his pocket.”

“If you are referring to me, Stark, no, he does not have anyone with my power. And neither have you.”

The mortal dismissed his words with a wave of his hand.

“I guess we'll have to face a worse invasion than the one you guided. Aside from this attempt to Indipendence Day our world, what should I expect from the Big Bad? How much stronger than you is Thanos?”

Loki laughed until he hurt his throat.

“You have no idea.”

“I would, if only you cooperated a little.”

The laughter died on his lips and he shook his head. Stark didn't understand the bless of not knowing, the possibility of having some hope left, that in front of Thanos would shatter in the blink of an eye.

“What I could do would only be some childish games in comparison to what Thanos does.”

“Is he a sorcerer too?”

“ _Little god.”_

_The voice was digging inside his mind, more painful than the dark magic of the Other, sharper than the Chitauri's blades that were piercing through his flesh and nerves. There was a whole universe of pain in the voice of that being in love with death, and he had experimented its fleeting touch and had trembled like a child, when he was already broken by the discovery of his true lineage._

He barely managed to keep his impassible mask on.

“No. Thanos is beyond that. He does not know magic, but he possesses some artifacts that are able to destroy whole Realms. He is in the same league of the All-Father, maybe he is even superior to him.”

There was a long silence.

“And what should I expect from you?” Stark finally said.

“Do I owe you something?”

The mortal stared back at him.

“You almost killed my team. I won't stand for you to try again.”

He hadn't talked for himself, but for those false heroes that surrounded him, and Loki tensed, trying to ignore the call of his own magic already tempting his fingers.

“Be careful, Stark. I do not like being threatened.”

For the first time since he had become his mortal, Stark smiled sharply at him.

“I thought that, with me, you had gotten used to it.”

Loki was upon him in a moment, his right hand already around the mortal's throat.

“You really do not know when it would be wiser to remain silent.”

And then, everything went into chaos.

“Sir!” the invisible servant screamed. Stark wasn't even trying to fight, he only defied him with an expression that made him want to tightened his grip even more, and the monster beneath his skin was craving blood and pain, something so insidious and hated that he bared his teeth to growl – _a jerk of his fingers and everything would end, the mortal who had dared to defy him would disappear, allowing him to return to his solitude where no dangers or confusion or strange emotions existed, but he could not, not Stark, not when he had found someone who had such worth_ – and in all that his muscles, more tense than they had ever been in a fight, the cold from Jotunheim spreading through his chest, trying to invade all of his body, his fingers trembling around a defenseless neck, before they slowly, almost painfully, let go.

A movement at the edge of his eye made him turn around just in time to see the briefcase with Stark's suit flying towards them and stopping before the bed.

He hardened his gaze. He was ready to call for his scepter and his battle regalia, but the mortal didn't summon his suit, nor did he attempt to stand from the bed. He hadn't even tried to escape from his grip.

“It's alright, Jarvis.” Massaging his neck, Stark looked at him. He was still naked, vulnerable and so frail that Loki knew he could grab his throat again and this time snap his neck with no efforts at all. And yet, on his face there was no fear. “I am not threatening you. But know that if you decide to attack my team again, I will fight you.”

He felt a sting inside his chest, at those words. Something that wasn't only burning rage. He pulled back, with a grimace that mirrored the contempt he was feeling.

“I have no time to waste on pathetic mortals, now that _he_ is coming.”

For a moment, Stark seemed like he was about to reply with his same resentment. Then he sighed, instead, and exhaustion appeared on his face.

“How long do we have?”

Loki counted a whole minute before he was sure he was in control of himself again, the monster trapped in the darkest part of his mind.

“One month. Maybe two. But to know it exactly I should pay him a visit.”

And the mere thought of it was enough to strangle his breath, because returning in that desolated place where the worst among the monsters reigned was like willingly walking towards his nightmare.

“Are you going to fight?”

The mortal's voice interrupted his dark thoughts and he stared back at him with a frown.

“What do you mean?”

“With your ability to magic yourself wherever you want, you could just stay away from the battlefield, hiding in a safe place. No one would be able to find you.”

Running away and letting others face Thanos and die in horror while they tried in vain to stop him...

He had thought about it, whole nights spent wondering which would be the best choice for someone who didn't belong anywhere anymore.

But there was Asgard. There was Frigga. If Midgard fell, the place he had once called home wouldn't have any defense left.

He felt a grimace taking place on his lips before he could repress it.

“There is no safe place if Thanos wants to find you.”

He tried to stand from the bed, but Stark grabbed his arm and stopped him.

When he met his eyes, he didn't find anything ironical or amused anymore in them, and not even anything hostile.

“Stay.”

The mortal was serious. Too serious. And Loki, instead of freeing himself from his weak grasp, attempted a grin.

“I thought you had it enough to beg for one night.”

“This wasn't what I meant.” Despite his grave voice, Stark couldn't hold back the hint of a smile, but he returned serious a moment later. “Your dark and I'm working-alone attitude has its appeal, but maybe it's time to cut if off, don't you think?”

“I suggest you check your tongue.”

The hand on his arm strengthened its grip.

“Because I'm telling you something you know too? We have the same goal, an enemy that, judging from what you told me, is fucking dangerous. Even Capsicle would realize that an alliance would be most sensible thing to do.”

Loki let him finish his useless monologue, listening to his words with a choice already taken. They were pretty words, comforting, even, like a long lost hope that still kept its appeal.

He could listen to them, he could humor his mortal, stay by his side while Stark participated to that game the Avengers called war and pretend to be part of them, part of a team, while he kept the monster beneath his skin hidden and silent, and returned to live that illusion where he still had a brother and a family and wasn't just a cursed creature, with neither peace nor forgiveness.

He could deceive them and himself, he could let Thor believe he had chosen his same path. And ignore the violent resentment that burnt his chest, that yearning for blood and tears, the urge to destroy everything until he lose himself.

_He had had his throat between his fingers, a couple of minutes before, and part of him had wanted to strengthen his grip until he felt it snap._

The smile that appeared on his lips was cruel, full of contempt, maybe more at himself than at the world.

Even if he managed to hide who he really was, if his old enemies accepted him in that team of fools who were ready to defy death itself... It would never work.

They didn't understand the horror Thanos represented, they didn't know what it meant, to fall into the void only to find  _him_ .

Even Thor had no idea. All he knew came from some old tales he had heard about while he was in the safety of his castle, when there had been the sun, outside, a light that would make any shadow disappear.

And Stark... Stark had seen the void, had felt the freezing touch of a place where no existence was allowed, but they had been only a few glimpses of twilight in comparison to that sticky darkness that had swallowed him only to spit him out at the feet of an even darker being.

He freed himself from Stark's hand like it was the grasp of a child and stood up, calling for his clothes and armor, more to defend himself from his own memories than to shield his body from the mortal's eyes.

“I gave you the information you wanted. Now it will be up to you and your _teammates_ to use them properly.”

“Loki...”

“Goodnight, Stark.”

He teleported himself to one of his lairs that were still safe without waiting for an answer or giving him another glance, before he listened to that absurd weakness that suggested him to lie down at his mortal's side and to wait for the morning with him.

 


	8. Chapter 7: The waiting game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for having returned only now, I have really been busier than I thought. On the bright side, I now have my degree, thank you for your kind messages of support!
> 
> Now, about the chapter. I really hate it. It was very difficult for me to finish it and it seemed like I didn't know how to write anymore. Plus it's again unbetaed. I hope you won't hate it much.
> 
> That said, in a week I'll be in Lucca Comics, the biggest comicon in my country, so I fear I won't be able to update again, since I still have tons of things to do (for my cosplay and yeah, occasionally looking for a job too XD), but I'll try to post a new chapter when I get back. In the meanwhile, enjoy your weekend and thank you so much for your feedbacks!

**Chapter 7: The waiting game**

 

The bite on his neck was burning.

Tony pressed one hand on his skin, where the god had left the mark of his teeth the night before, hiding it beneath a hoodie he hadn't worn in a long time. That unusual choice wouldn't escape Natasha's too attentive eyes, he knew it already, but he preferred rising her suspicions about his recent change of style to give her a too consistent hint at how he had spent the hours in Loki's company.

The unmade bed where he had been sleeping for a surprising amount of hours captured his gaze, making him grimace.

He was sure that bastard had done it on purpose.

“Jarvis, what are our lovely towermates doing?”

“Agents Barton and Romanoff are training in the gym. Captain Rogers has just finished his training and is currently having a shower, while doctor Banner is meditating. Should I request them to come here?”

“Yes, but with no rush. Especially not with Bruce, the more he meditates the better. In the meanwhile, be a dear and make me some strong coffee.”

“You can already find it in the kitchen, sir.”

“That's my boy.”

At the moment, a cup of his favorite fuel seemed to him the only possible way to start the day and face the doubts that the encounter with the god had left in him. He had just taken the first few sips, savoring the warmth spreading in his throat and stomach, when Natasha made her appearance. She was wearing her training suit and her hair was sweaty, but neither her face nor her breath showed any efforts.

“Weren't you training with your birdfriend, a couple of minutes ago?” Tony greeted her, stepping closer to the coffee that wasn't in his cup yet, like to protect it from the spy.

Natasha smiled at him, her eyes wandering on his clothes and stopping for a moment on his neck.

“Do you seriously think I need more time than that to knock him out, when he annoys me?”

“And what did he do to deserve such cruel fate?”

To his relief, Natasha ignored his precious coffee and instead grabbed an apple.

“He could have suggested that I wasn't in top form.”

Tony's eyes ran towards her arm, where Loki had wounded her. It didn't seem she was affected by the wound at all, but he wasn't sure how much of her behavior was true and how much depended on her just pretending.

“Don't you think it's too soon to play the “I'm the invincible assassin who doesn't need rest or recovery” act?”

Natasha bit into the apple, meeting his gaze without any emotions.

“Ask me again, Stark, and I'll show you what I did to Clint.”

“Thanks, but I'm against doing physical activities during early morning.”

The smile he received as a reply reminded him of the predatory grin of a certain god. He repressed that thought with a shiver, but it was creepy to realize how much of Loki he could find in Natasha, at least on the dangerous side.

He sipped his second cup of coffee in silence while she was eating. When he finished it, he was about to take a third refill, when Natasha placed her hand onto his own.

“I let you have your breakfast, or at least what you consider breakfast, without bothering you. Now why don't you tell me about the visit you received yesterday night?”

She was the spy and the assassin again, but her eyes were less cold than during the past interrogations. It was just a little unnerving how they kept focusing on his neck.

“As always your feminine intuition is right. How did you deduce it, Sherlock?”

“Jarvis told us you wanted to have a little talk. Plus, you still haven't gone down to your lab, so I guess the only reason for you to call for a meeting at this hour would be that you had some news about Thanos, and you don't have many ways you could have obtained it.”

“Maybe I just wanted to warn you of the upcoming eviction for you all, aside from Bruce.”

The hand disappeared and a smile replaced her too attentive expression.

“Come on, Tony. You like having us here, after all.”

“Careful, Romanoff, I still haven't decided if I should forgive you and Cupid.”

Natasha snorted, her smile still in place.

“I thought that after the cold shower we were even.”

“Cold shower? Would it be a metaphor for my magnanimous complaints?”

She shook her head.

“Once the meeting ended. I had a bath, but the warm water suddenly turned cold. It happened the same with Steve, when he had his shower.”

“Don't you think that I would be more creative? Like painting your hair green, or sending Capsicle some male strippers?”, Tony protested, but then he frowned, because a suspicion was forming in his mind. “Jarvis, do you know anything about this?”

“I had a little malfunctioning, sir. I don't understand what could have happened.”

“You never have malfunctioning.”

Or at least not until someone with magic came around.

“Loki,” Natasha said, giving voice to Tony's own thought.

“It could have been his way to greet you all.”

But the spy wasn't in the mood for joking anymore, since on her face it appeared what for normal people would be a grimace.

“So not even Jarvis is able to detect him. We are not as safe as I hoped, here.”

“My tower wouldn't be safe?” Tony glared at her, letting go of his empty cup of coffee and folding his arms. “Rock of Ages can teleport, make himself invisible and he's almost impossible to permanently damage. In which part of the world you think you could be safe from that?”

“In a world where he's not present, I guess.” Natasha's face had turned unreadable, but then she relaxed. “And how is it going with your anti-magic device?”

“Splendidly. Of course, if Fury hadn't arrested me and if I didn't have to babysit the whole team, I would have made more progresses.”

This time Natasha's lips quivered.

“It happens to be arrested, when you break into a maximum security facility which belongs to a secret organization.”

“There are so many wrong things in your answer that I don't know whether to start from maximum security or from you comparing me to normal, boring people of standard intellect.”

“With your ego I would never dare to compare you to normal people.”

“You forgot to mention my genial mind. And me being annoyingly attractive and irresistible.”

“And your habit to try to divert others' attention from a topic you don't want to talk about.” Natasha's smile faded in a more serious expression. “So, are you going to tell me about last night? Or do we wait for the others?”

It was more an offer than a request, and Tony sighed but made a decision.

“Okay, take a seat, then, because there are some pretty bad news. But at least I won't be the one who delivers them to the whole team, this way.”

“Are they so bad?”

“Quite enough. Which do you want sooner? The bad or the good ones?”

Natasha looked at him for a couple of moments, before sitting down as he had suggested.

“No one wants to start with the good ones, Tony.”

“As you wish. So, starting from the worst: Thanos is so powerful that a god is scared shitless by him, and I'm talking about our favorite psychopath, the one who wasn't even scared when he appeared in front of me with a hole on his side that was oozing blood and a broken chest, after the fight against you.”

“We already knew that Thanos is dangerous. Thor told us that.”

Tony shook his head.

“No, you don't understand. Have you ever seen Loki scared? When the Hulk was using him as a club, or when a pissed off Thor went ballistic on his ass, or when we captured him and Clint was threatening him with torture before you dragged him away? Well, Loki is the only one who met this Thanos guy, since Thor has only heard about him. And you just have to say his name to see Loki tense like he had just seen Jack the Ripper and he were an harmless prostitute.” He swallowed, because after having seen Loki's powers and resistance the mere idea that someone could scare him was simply terrifying. “He told me that Thanos already destroyed some planets. It appears he's in the same league of Thor's daddy, or maybe even more dangerous than that.”

Nothing really changed in the spy's expression, but something in his words must have reached her deeply, since there was now a tangible tension in what until a couple of minutes before had been a normal morning like many others.

“What else?”

“Another bad news: Thanos will come with the Chitauri, but a lot more than those we had to face. Quoting Rock of Ages, we saw only the vanguard of his army.”

Natasha grimaced.

“Are you sure there are good news too?”

“Not as good as we would like, but yes.” He couldn't avoid making a pause, to emphasize his own words, but like always happened with her the spy just waited in silence without giving him any satisfaction. Tony sighed, regretting a little that Clint wasn't there, since his impatience would make him a better spectator. “First: there won't be any portals and Thanos has no sorcerers at his service, so no one could ever teleport him around. He'll come from space and that will take a month, maybe even two.”

Natasha nodded.

“Enough to plan a strategy and organize an army.”

“Yes, if Fury will do his part.”

“There is no reason to doubt it.”

No, she was right. That untrustworthy son of a bitch was ready to do anything to reach his own goals and Tony hadn't forgotten how he had threatened Pepper and what he had tried to do to Bruce, but if there was something sure about Fury it was that he would do anything to protect the Earth.

“Second?”

Tony frowned, feeling the need for a third cup of coffee.

“Second what?”

Natasha was still looking at him from the chair, in a position of false vulnerability.

“You talked about good news, but until now you've told me only one.”

“Right. Second good news, then. Loki. We have signed a sort of truce.”

“Between the two of you, or him and us all?”

Straight to the point, as always. Tony used all the experience he had gained with the media to keep a natural expression, while he felt like the god was biting his neck again, the teeth digging into the flesh of his throat until they left their mark.

“We still have to decide the details, but it seems he'll be too busy watching his back from Thanos to deign you of his divine attention. So cheer up, Romanoff. The psychopath that almost destroyed New York will be on our side, this time.”

“It's not enough to consider it an alliance.”

Tony shrugged.

“I asked him to come here to talk to you all, like adults do, but I'm sorry, he doesn't like you at all. It's not my fault that I'm the only one who's worthy of a conversation with a god.”

Natasha welcomed his words with an exasperated sigh.

“Try to convince him.”

“I thought you didn't like Loki.”

“It's exactly because I don't like him that I want to have him where I can see him.”

“I won't make promises, but I'll put a good word for you. I fear it's too late for Capsicle and Legolas, though. They're not pretty enough.”

“When are you going to see him again?”

Tony arched his brow.

“Does he look like the kind of guy who sets appointments in advance?”

“I hoped he gave you the means to contact him.”

“No, but I'll just have to wait a little.” He didn't need to be a genius to realize that telling the most paranoid person in the team that Loki used to spy on them while invisible would be a terrible mistake. “He can't resist to my charm. I'm sure sooner or later he'll be back, begging for my company.”

“Another proof of how he isn't right in the head,” Natasha commented, with the shadow of a smile.

Tony glared at her, before turning around.

“You're just envious.”

Now that the serious business had ended, he allowed himself to refill his cup with the coffee that was left, while reflecting on his own words, wondering if the god had been there the whole time and had listened to everything. It would be something Loki would do.

But even if he hadn't been there, Tony didn't fear he wouldn't meet him again.

He only had to wait, he was sure his personal stalker would again let him know he was there with some petty tricks, or he would just appeared directly in his bedroom, which would be nice. Or, and that was even more probable, one day Tony would lift his eyes from work and would simply find the god in front of him.

Now he only had to wait for Loki to visit him again.

But it didn't happen, neither that day, nor the days after that.

 


	9. Chapter 8: The sound of silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wanted to give you a betaed chapter, but since my beta is superbusy and it's been such a long time since the last update, plus starting tomorrow I'm going abroad for a few days, I thought to update today anyway. I just hope this unbetaed chapter will be readable.
> 
> Thank you for your comments and support! Also, sorry for the irregular updates, I'm the worst...

**Chapter 8: The sound of silence**

 

Not even a fucking word.

Since that night spent together, the god hadn't even deigned him with the slightest hint of his presence, he hadn't made any appearances, not even once, and there had been no strange phenomenons in his tower anymore.

“I think we should try to use an external electromagnetic field to better direct the Reactor interference.”

His bottles were still in their places, with no changes in color or in their contents. No one had had a cold shower anymore and Jarvis hadn't had any other malfunctions.

“Using a superconductor we could reach a better emission intensity.”

He had tried to call him, more than once. At first, he had used some petty provocations, since he was irritated because of Loki's silence, then he had simply asked him to teleport in his tower so that they would be able to talk. In the end, he had tried with offenses so harsh that he knew he would risk a painful evisceration, but silence had been the only response he had received. A tense solitude full of grim premonition.

“And we could ask Thor to lend us Mjolnir. What do you think?”

It wasn't fair. He had only proposed an alliance, which was clearly the only possible choice for whoever had even the tiniest amount of common sense, and yet, that bastard had disappeared from his life, leaving him with a bitter, angry feeling just beneath his Reactor, deeper than he wanted to admit. That melodrama lover had preferred disappearing to admit that he was right.

Or at least it was what Tony hoped, because the alternative was way worse than a petty demonstration of immaturity.

“ _How long do we have?”_

“ _One month. Maybe two. But to know it exactly I should pay him a visit.”_

He tensed, strengthening his grip on the soldering iron until it hurt.

If Loki had really decided to go spying on Thanos and had yet to come back, it was possible that he wouldn't come back at all.

“Tony? Are you listening to me?”

And that was an unacceptable thought.

A touch on his shoulder startled him, and the soldering iron would have made a mess on the prototype he was working on, if a steady hand hadn't closed around his wrist, keeping it still.

“Tony?”

He blinked twice and he found himself staring at Bruce's worried face.

“What?”

With a sigh, the hand on his shoulder and the one around his wrist disappeared.

“It's almost been fifteen minutes that I'm talking to you and you aren't listening one single word.” Bruce passed one hand through his already messy hair, without diverting his gaze. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Of course. More than okay. We have an upcoming war against an alien overlord, I don't have a test subject for what could be my greatest invention after the Reactor and my suit, and the two alien gods who could help us against this threat are missing who knows where, but aside from that everything is peachy.”

Instead of answering back, Bruce took a more comfortable position on the chair and then sent him a sharp gaze.

“Jarvis, turn off the music, please.”

It was only when AC/DC stop echoing in the background that Tony realized how silent the lab was without it, with his friend's eyes focused on him and that knot of anxiety devouring his chest.

He frowned.

“Why did you do it? It was my turn to choose the soundtrack for the afternoon.”

“Because now we talk.”

Tony only needed to catch the determination, behind Bruce's gentle expression, to suppress an ironical refusal.

“And what would you want to talk about?”

“You've been moody and distracted for the last few days, you barely notice what is happening around you.” Bruce hesitated, before assuming a more cautious gaze. “Something happened with Pepper?”

Tony almost fell down the chair.

“What? Of course not! Why are you asking?”

Bruce breathed in relief.

“It seemed to me that you're avoiding her.”

“I'm not avoiding her, I don't understand why you would think that.”

But now that he was thinking of it, it had been whole days since the last time he had seen her. He had talked to her at the phone, reassuring her and taking advantage of her good heart to delegate her most of his work related to Stark Industries, so that he could stay in the lab and complete the prototype, because he had been too distracted by Loki's disappearance to care about what surrounded him. To care about Pepper, and the last time he had seen her he had confessed to have been ready to kill a man in cold blood, and Pepper had covered his hands with her own, showing she had been ready to follow him again, even in that, to be at his side like she had always been.

_Shit._

“Did she tell you that?”

“No.” The relief was replaced by a strange tension. “It just occurred to me. You're always in the lab, with or without me, and usually you don't spend so many days without seeing her.”

Smiling at him came easily, to Tony, even if he still hadn't stopped cursing himself.

“You're right, but nothing happened, don't worry. I just have a lot in my mind.”

“Do you want to share? It won't solve anything, but it's better to worry together than alone.”

A moment of silence, before turning off the soldering iron and putting it back to its place. He turned the chair towards his friend, then, to face him from a comfortable position too.

“What we're about to face seems a way greater threat than the horned psychopath, and the above-mentioned psychopath just disappeared without traces.”

Bruce frowned.

“You fear he's plotting something?”

“Maybe,” Tony replied, despite not believing it himself. “Or maybe he's gotten himself killed,” he added, in a lower voice.

His friend looked astonished.

“You're not afraid of him, you're afraid _for_ him,” he commented, with a disbelieving voice, but it wasn't a question.

“For that little shit? No way. Not possible.” Bruce was still looking at him with an irritating sharp gaze, but in a different way than Natasha, because Bruce didn't demand and didn't insist, he only worried about him. He could trust him, he could be sure that his friend would be there for him, it was what his eyes were saying, and Tony realized that maybe he was tired of lying. “A little.”

For a moment Bruce tensed, the Other Guy lurking just beneath the surface, but then he regained his usual self control.

“Okay. Can I ask why?”

“Before he did his dramatic exit, Rock of Ages hinted of the possibility of going back to spy on Thanos, to see how close he was.” Tony grimaced. “I haven't had any news from him since then.”

“I meant why you are worrying for the enemy that kept you prisoner and almost destroyed New York.”

“Because being his prisoner was less terrible than I expected,” he admitted, giving voice to a truth that sounded strange to his own ears.

“We are talking of Loki”

“I know.”

“The bag-full-of-cats-crazy alien that wanted to conquer the Earth.”

“I was there too, remember?”

“You're worried about Loki!”

Tony sighed.

“Yes, worried is probably too much, but I hope he's alive.”

Bruce took a couple of deep breaths, before his hand went to massage his forehead. When he returned to look at him, he was calm again.

“He is dangerous.”

The smile Tony gave him this time was like a grimace.

“I know that, believe me, but it would be our loss not to have him as an ally in this war.” He hesitated a little more, a long moment of unsureness, before he made his choice. “And... I don't think he's so past redemption. Let's be clear, he's a total asshole and I find it more believable Thor becoming a genial hacker than Rock of Ages becoming a perfect citizen who who helps grannies crossing the street. But by living with him I came to know him outside from Thor's stories or from a battlefield. I discovered part of his past. He didn't become like that through his choices, not completely, and maybe there's a possibility for him to redeem himself. Or at least that to not become worse.”

“Tony.”

Bruce had talked in a barely audible whisper, and he had the sudden sensation he had talked too much.

“I know that Natasha and maybe Fury think that I have Stockholm Syndrome or some similar bullshit, but you have to believe me if I say it's not like that.”

“I believe you.”

Tony frowned.

“You believe me?”

Okay, he was his best friend, but he didn't expect it to be so easy.

Bruce nodded.

“You're one of the smartest people I know, and no,” he stopped his protests with a smile. “I'm not going to say the smartest, because I have no intentions to gratify your ego and because there are a lot of different kind of smartness to consider. So I'm trusting you and your knowledge.” He returned serious with a sigh. “What I worried about is how much of what Loki showed to you had been lies used to manipulate you.”

“What do you mean?”

He had tensed without even noticing it, because he didn't like where that was going at all.

“He's been able to deceive even Natasha. Are you sure that what you saw while you were his prisoner wasn't just his show to make you sympathize with him and bring you to his side?”

All a lie. Loki's vulnerability, that self-destructive behavior, the self-hatred... Tony couldn't believe it, and Bruce hadn't witnessed to the horror on the god's face when his skin had started changing color, or the fury Loki had showed while he was saving his life and at the same time destroying the life of his enemy.

That was true, he could have bet Jarvis on it.

And yet, it was Loki they were talking about. A god who lied with the same ease he breathed and that fed on the chaos that he generated. A god who had now disappeared, and Tony didn't know if he was making plan to fuck them all. The intimacy that there had been between the two of them, their mutual understanding, the way the god had helped him rebuild himself after Schmidt, could they have been all illusions crafted by the god of lies?

While those doubts invaded his mind, Tony met his friend's eyes and wasn't able to find an answer.

 

 

He had never given particular attention to the inner gardens of the palace. They were a place he did not belong to, flowers, plants and hedges taller than him that were of no interests for who was used to savor the taste of blood and sweat of the battlefields.

Those gardens did not suit his nature.

They were Loki's place, and for a long time he had wondered what his brother found in a place that was more suitable for the women of the court than for a warrior. And yet, it was there where he had gone after he had talked with his father.

Sat on one of a white benches that were in the garden, Thor discovered that the solitude was the best company he could hope for, while the thought that had brought him to Asgard didn't give him any rest.

“So you are leaving,” a soft voice murmured, from behind his back.

Thor stood up and turned around.

“Mother.” He met her eyes for one moment, before diverting his gaze, remembering the last conversation they had, that faraway day that now seemed like it belonged to another era. “I failed.”

They had already talked to each other during the days he had spent on Asgard, looking for answers and reassurances, but there had always been Odin or someone from the court, there, or his friends, with whom he had started to feel uncomfortable, like he didn't belong to their carefree reality anymore. This was the first time they truly were alone.

Frigga caressed his cheek.

“No, Thor. You tried. Like everyone. The true failure is to give up.”

The bitterness in his chest spread like a suppurating wound, blocking his throat in a humiliating weakness. Now, with her hand on his cheek and the anguish for his brother and for Thanos' threat weighting heavily on his chest, he felt more like a child, too young to face the world without his mother, than the future king of Asgard.

Only with difficulty he held back the urge to place his hand over Frigga's and let himself savor her caress and be a child again, with no responsibilities and no hard decisions to take. He stayed rigid and didn't move, instead, until Frigga pulled back her hand.

“Do you know what happened?”

She nodded.

“Heimdall told me. I am glad I do not have to mourn a child of mine.”

“Me or him?” he couldn't avoid asking.

“Both of you. Neither you nor him will ever stop being my sons, Thor. But how do you consider him, after what has happened between you two?”

Thor thought back of the pain, while his brother pierced him from side to side, of Loki's mad eyes full of rage, of his shieldbrothers lying on the ground in a pool of blood, of his own decision when he was looking at the ceiling without truly seeing it, of Tony Stark's words and of an absolution that he would never hope for.

“Loki will always be my brother,” he finally said, before shaking his head, a bitter sensation of failure on his throat. “But I am not sure he can be saved anymore.”

“Do not lose hope.”

Those words only sharpened the ache inside his chest.

“And how should I save one who does not want to be saved?” he replied, almost in rage, overwhelmed by the weight of an assignment that seemed impossible, while his mother was already forgiving who was tormenting them. And then came the shame, because after all the hatred that his brother drew upon him he should have felt only relief in finding someone who still cared about him.

Frigga only smiled, in that distant way that made her an authority at the same level of Odin, even if without his sternness, and Thor wasn't truly able to meet her gaze, the eyes of a mother who loved him and understood him a lot better than how he understood himself.

“He wants it, but he still cannot accept it.” Frigga's smile faded and a serious expression took its place. “I only ask you to be there, when he needs you.”

 


	10. Chapter 9: Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not a very happy period, for me, so I hope that updating will cheer me up a little. It's a short chapter, unbetaed as the ones before it, but I should be able to update again before the end of the week. I hope you'll like it^^ Thank you as always for your feedbacks, they're all greatly appreciated!

**Chapter 9: Plans**

 

_A freezing prison with no breeze and no light, naked stone trapping him like a grave with no ceiling and pain as his only, unbearable perception._

Tony passed one hand on his eyes, while trying to put the prototype he was working on into focus. That dream had been tormenting him for the whole day, maybe because it had been two weeks since the last time he had seen Loki, and the most irrational and emotional part of him was really starting to worry, thinking of grim scenarios when he found himself staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, in the vain attempt to have some rest.

And now there was that other thought too, which was maybe more insidious, the one Bruce's words had fomented.

If Loki had really decided to screw them, he would have showed himself, answering his attempt to contact him so that he could keep on pretending to be an ally of some sort, instead of an enemy. It wouldn't make sense for him to disappear. If he had simply gotten tired of giving Tony his attention, though, and decided to let them face Thanos alone while he watched the fight from a safe place, without risking his life and without dirtying his hands...

He put the blowtorch back onto the table, where the prototype looked the same as one week before.

In that case, Loki would disappear who knew where and he would never have the possibility of knowing how far the sense of affinity he and the god shared would go.

“Sir, Miss Potts is on the line.”

He straightened himself up, letting go of those thoughts.

“Put her call through.”

The screen in front of him lightened up, showing his CEO's face.

“Tony.”

“Hey, Pep. Everything all right, on the other side of the world?”

She was tired, Tony could see it even through the video call, but at his words she hinted a smile that softened her expression, erasing the severity of a woman who was able to take control of the situation even when she was surrounded by a bunch of arrogant assholes with two times her age.

“Yes, the meetings went as we hoped. With your return, the stocks of Stark Industries are up again.”

“And now that you went visiting my overseas industries, they will go up even more,” he said, while shifting to a more comfortable position on the chair.

“It's a pity you're too busy in the lab, or you could have come too.” Pepper's voice became lighter, now, as her smile widened. “The last hotel where I spent the night had some remarkable wines.”

“Buffet dinner?”

“Room service.”

“I'll be waiting for a very detailed expense report, Miss Potts.” He did his best to send her a strict glance. “I'm starting to think you're taking advantage of the situation.”

“I'm working for one of the richest men in the world. Doing _his_ job. Of course I would spoil myself a little.”

It had been so long since the last time they had talked with each other with such ease, before Loki, before Schmidt, even before they broke up, that Tony wasn't able to pretend to be serious any longer.

“I'll have to make an effort to spoil you even here, then.”

Pepper was maybe having his same thoughts, because her smile softened again.

“Maybe you really should.”

“Consider it already done.”

And it was the truest thing he could have said: after the talk with Bruce, he had tried to return close to Pepper and before she left to take care of that annoying part of his job, he had invited her to dinner for when she would be back. Nothing formal or out of the ordinary, just a normal dinner between friends at his tower, or at least that was what he had told her, but the truth was that he had already booked a renowned Italian chef. _Literally_ booked the chef, since he had personally gone to hire him and, ignoring his protests and him saying that he already had reservations for the whole year, had kept adding zeros to his offer until that annoying little man had been left speechless, incapable of refusing.

“So, are you still in, for Tuesday night?”

It wouldn't be much, especially after all what he had done to her, but he had never been good at apologizing.

“I'll be there. Now I have to go. Have a good day, Tony.”

“Enjoy making a hole in my finances with the room service.”

Pepper hung up without losing her smile and Tony, despite the anxiety for Thanos and for the god who was missing, felt a little better.

 

 

Faster.

_He slid away from shadow to shadow, blending in among the rough stones of that castle that was just the larger version of a prison. The sporadic torches hanging from the wall gave life to shapes which resembled monsters, in those little pools of light that stood out in the darkness._

_Careful to where he was placing his feet, he tried to make his consciousness dissolve, to become one with the darkness and the bitter cold that reigned in the silence._

Faster.

_He turned off his thoughts, slowed down his breath, became only the vessel of something impalpable, something that wasn't really existing, not in that reality, not for the one who was looking for him._

Disappear.

_His pursuer chose the same hallway where he was, without any unsureness._

_It was a beast of blood and pain, with sharp fangs and cruel claws and a grin that foreshadowed agony. And then he could only run, continuing his escape but without any semblance of calm or control, letting his frantic steps echoing in the darkness, fast and irregular like they belonged to a prey._

_The air became a burning perception in his lungs, his attempt to use his magic stopped before it even reached his fingers, the desperate hope to teleport to a safe place crushed as soon as he recognized it in his mind, leaving him to face the nameless horror that was hunting him with no defenses._

_He knew it was there, he felt it becoming closer at each step, his own damnation with the semblance of a vicious beast._

_And he couldn't turn his head to see how close it was, or he would slow down, and if that monster caught up with him, if it captured him, he would experience an eternity of endless pain._

_A shock in the castle made the hallway in front of him collapse, leaving him to stare at his only escape route disappearing into an abyss. He could have crossed it, if only his magic responded to him, if he hadn't been so exhausted. He hesitated, remembering with a shiver another abyss, in that moment when he had decided for his entire life, a moment that seemed to belong to whole centuries before._

_Then, when the creature that was hunting him became so close he could almost smell its foul breath, he jumped down into the abyss._

_A red flash broke the darkness, something vivid and painful that stopped his fall, and he found himself in mid air, without any abyss, without any pursuers, with his wrists bound by too tight chains._

“ _Little god, do you really think I would grant you the relief of death?”_

_With his eyes focused on the face of the worst among the nightmares that were infesting his mind, Loki started to scream._

 


	11. Chapter 10: A glimpse in the darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, here I am with a chapter which is very short, very unbetaed, very evil. Graphic depiction of torture, you've been warned. Please, don't hate me too much. And, as always, thank you for your feedbacks, they are very welcome!
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: chapter corrected by Ryal. Thank you!

**Chapter 10: A glimpse in the darkness**

 

_He screamed, even before the pain, even before the blood. He only looked at the smiling titan and he screamed._

 

How much time had passed, since that day?

Weeks? Months?

He did not remember.

He took a shaking breath, while what was left of his magic tried in vain to heal his collapsed lung. Blood was invading his mouth and he didn't even have the strength to spit it towards one of his tormentors.

A piercing pain was added to the agony that was already assaulting his nerves, but as wounded as he was, it took him several seconds to realize that one of the Chitauri had stabbed his thigh from side to side. Blood oozed down from the new wound, trickling down to widen the crimson pool beneath his feet.

He closed his eyes shut, struggling to remain lucid in a reality where he only felt pain.

He had been a fool.

He had realized immediately that there was something wrong; as soon as he had arrived in Thanos' domain. The atmosphere had been suffocating, which wasn't new, but a shiver had run through his back, foreshadowing an invisible threat that his eyes and his mind hadn't been able to perceive.

He had proceeded anyway, a shadow among the shadows, relying on the same spells that had protected him during his last visit there, looking for answers. Meanwhile the voice of his mortal took root in his head, more consistent and welcome than he would have liked to admit.

It had been Stark, his last thought. The Avenger's annoying voice which was never silent and wasn't truly that unbearable, his unexpected desire to return to the mortal's tower, to share the information he was about to collect, to touch his skin and to hear his moans.

He must have smiled, from behind the veil of invisibility which he was confident shielded him from any attentions, before the trap closed upon him.

Thanos had caught him off guard with a sudden burst of energy, rendering him unconscious before he could hope to mount a defense. When he had regained his senses, Loki found himself naked and chained in a dark cell, his wrists tightly bound by cursed shackles that were able to block his magic.

He had studied the runes engraved in the metal, fighting against the restriction that kept his magic trapped inside his body. However the few moments of solitude he had been granted before the torment started had been too little time for him to manage to free himself. Every other time he had been alone again, he was too wounded to muster the power to break free.

All because of a moment when he hadn't been paying enough attention, when he had chosen to ignore his own instinct.

Now he was trapped, a prisoner of the most dangerous being in the universe, doomed to an agony he couldn't escape from, not even in the most extreme way, because Thanos and his slaves had made themselves sure of knowing the limits of his body.

He shifted his wrists in the shackles, his feet dangling several inches from the ground. When one of the Chitauri broke his shinbone, he didn't even whimper, weak as he was.

“What a pathetic sight.”

That cruel, mocking voice reached him with an icy grip on what was left of his lungs. He forced his eyes open, only to find himself to staring at the master of his tormentors.

Even with pain clouding his gaze, he managed to recognize the weapon that the Mad Titan was carrying in his left hand.

The Infinity Gauntlet shone in the dim-dark of that forsaken place. A death sentence for everything that existed, and it didn't matter whether it was complete or not, because even the All-Father would maybe be unable to face Thanos if the titan possessed that artifact.

The plans, the alliance he had refused but which yet remained like a weakness teasing him at the edges of his mind, Stark, his false brother and their foolish companions... they were all doomed.

He saw the Titan lift his arm and trembled, then something called him, in his mind. It was faint, barely there, but it was impossible to miss. An unexpected, reassuring flicker in the ocean of pain and fear that now filled his existence.

He desperately tried to breathe, despite his devastated body, despite being hung from his wrists. But he needed to know, so he grasped desperately for that last glimpse of rationality that had reawakened his mind.

There was a gem, on the gauntlet. Only one, but that faint feeling of familiarity wasn't going away. He attempted to look at the lucid surface of what was maybe the most devastating weapon in the Nine Realms, to put it into focus.

Thanos closed his fist, startling him.

“Do you truly think you experimented pain, little godling?”

The gauntlet became red hot, flames of power surrounded it, while the Titan grinned.

But Loki could see it, now. There wasn't only a gem, next to it there was also a shard. A familiar shard of a blue shade, which was carrying his magic, calling to him and reminding him of the long hours he had spent making the two Tesseract's fragment his own, before setting one of them in his scepter.

_Only one._

He stopped breathing.

That violent energy flew towards him with the promise of even more pain.

“And now, burn.”

When he felt it on his skin, Loki realized abruptly how foolish he had been when he had thought the torments he had endured during the last days were torture.

He screamed until his vocal cords ripped themselves apart, while his chest was on fire, his flesh and nerves and bones burning, leaving him unable to breathe, unable to even think with that kind of agony shattering every cell of his being.

The energy was consuming him and Thanos was laughing. The pain was unbearable, and it didn't stop, it only became worse, too much pain that stole his rationality away and sank his mind into madness.

He didn't know how much time had passed until the pain receded a little, allowing him to formulate a thought.

The knowledge of who he was, why he couldn't stop fighting.

His chest didn't exist anymore, it was just a lump of blackened flesh.

But he had a plan, now.

It was a plan that could fail for a thousand different reasons, but it was a possibility to escape where until that moment he had had none.

While he let his consciousness slide away, half choking from his own blood, for the first time in whole weeks Loki felt something akin hope.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, for those who don't hate me yet, next chapter is half-written, which brings me to the question: do you prefer longer chapters or me updating more often? Let me know. Thank you for reading and have a good Sunday!


	12. Chapter 11: Set ablaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and feedbacks! Another short, unbetaed chapter I hope you'll like anyway. As for the next one, it will be online in a week. Have a good day!

**Chapter 11: Set ablaze**

 

There were flames in his lungs.

A fire that burnt and spread along his veins, contaminating them with the hot white blazes of an unbearable agony. He felt it swallowing his body inch after inch, stealing his breath away in the more brutal version of a noose around his neck. It was more than he had ever experienced, it was like feeling on his skin the same pain that had annihilated his mind when the wretched color of his true heritage had meanders through his arms like a poison.

When he opened his eyes again, there were only fragments of thoughts and broken pleas in that overwhelming pain that had invaded his mind.

A hissing sound hit his ears, it was threat and despair at the same time and he couldn't find its source while his senses were attenuated by the pain. There was neither time nor place, nothing aside that agony that prevented him to find peace in a welcome nothingness.

He opened his mouth, split lips that tore themselves at the movement, and only then he realized that the broken sound came from himself.

He was breathing, somehow.

Despite the fire in his lungs and the unbearable pain he couldn't find a way to end.

Little by little, a few other perceptions reached him: sharp, cold stones all around him, blood under his body and in his mouth, something cruel around his wrists.

He blinked, sewing the pieces of his memories back together. His name. When he had been captured. That enemy who was capable of destroying whole Realms and annihilating existence itself, the grin with which the titan had heard his screams and witnessed his suffering, the mocking note in that hated voice. And then, his own falling into the void, the reason he was being tortured, Frigga, Thor, his mortal. The Infinity Gauntlet with a blue shard which pulsed with his magic.

The urge to laugh caught him even through his agony.

He had a possibility, now, he had one hope, but he was so weak and hurt that keeping even only a glimpse of lucidity was taking all his will.

He took another breath, shivering when all of his nerves were set on fire again, like he was being punished.

He was still bleeding. Or maybe not, maybe he had lost so much blood that every inch of his body was covered with it. Not that it mattered, because he needed some magic if he really wanted to try the impossible and he couldn't spend any of what little he had left to attempt to heal some of his wounds.

_You lack conviction,_ someone had told him. That mortal he had spared only on a whim. And yet, that mortal had understood nothing.

As soon as the worst peaks of agony softened a little, he unraveled one by one the strings of the spell that shaped the lie he had believed for most of his life.

Even in a place so far away from everything and everyone, where no one could see him and with a body which was already ruined, he felt sick while he let the monster emerge. He averted his eyes from his own arms, now of a disgusting blue, and focused it on the heavy metal around his wrists, while keeping the little amount of magic he had recovered like a treasure.

The chains were so tight that he almost wasn't feeling his hands anymore. They were a dwarfs work. Thor had used similar chains on him, while bringing him back to Asgard, when he had pretended to have been defeated by the Avengers and he was silently celebrating his victory instead. That time, he had needed whole days to get free and escape from the dungeon, before the All-Father came to judge him. But he hadn't truly been in a rush.

Now, however, every passed second was bringing him closer to another session of torture and to the definitive loss of his last hope.

He fought with all his strength against the pain and with a sheer force of will he managed to clear a little part of his mind, where he would be able to think without being overwhelmed and torn apart by his own perceptions. Then, while the rest of him was trapped in an unbearable agony, he searched for a weak point in the chain. The runes engraved in the metal were blocking him, trapping him in an invisible cage without windows or escape routes, and they seemed more and more insurmountable by the seconds, because after every painful breath he took it was always more difficult for him to regain his focus. He tried anyway, inch after inch, testing every rune. And, in the end, he found it. A small opening in the thick threads of magic that were blocking his powers.

He stopped breathing while he crossed it in the blink of an eye, calling the second shard of the Tesseract to him, from the dimension where he had hidden it in after he had mounted its twin in the scepter.

His need for air was making him dizzy, but he knew that if he breathed, forcing the lump of burnt flesh he had as a chest to work, it would be even worse. He called the shard to him again, using all the magic he had managed to retrieve at the price of his appearance.

He still hadn't breathed when he saw it, in front of his unfocused eyes: a perfect shard, lightening the darkness with hope and power. And it was calling him, it was  _his_ , it still carried his magic signature, like the shard Thanos had stolen from his scepter to put onto the gauntlet. He managed to put it into focus before the pain took his sight away.

He reached blindly for it, closing his bloody fingers around that little piece of the Tessarct which could mean his salvation.

For a few moments he couldn't do anything but fighting against his weakness to stay conscious, to not forget his goal.

He was so tired, so in pain, that the possibility to gain a little relief almost convinced him to use the shard to heal himself. His own survival instinct was pushing him to do just that, to gain some more time, to heal at least part of his lungs, so that he would muffle the agony that every breath cost him. A little relief from the pain, which was what his damaged body desperately craved.

_No._

He clamped his jaw shut, after swallowing down a mouthful of scorching hot air mixed with his blood. The healing, the relief, the lack of pain would come later, once he reached safety, if that was even possible. But he had to try, because he wouldn't have any other chances.

He concentrated to call for his magic through the crack in the runes that were blocking his powers and using the shard's energy as catalyst he tried to cast the teleport spell that would save his life. Nothing happened. The shard showed no changes, the chains were suffocating him and remaining conscious was becoming harder and harder at each passing second.

He tried again, with a stubbornness born out of desperation. He had used that spell thousands of times, in the past, even when he had been hurt, and now it was like he was a child again, a little boy who was not able to control his powers anymore. Now the pain was a wave brushing against the edge of the safe part of his mind, his determination wouldn't be able to keep it at bay for long and soon it would crush his defenses, annihilating his consciousness and leaving him in Thanos' hands again. And the Titan would have another shard, that way, to use like it belonged to him.

_But it didn't._

He struggled not to lose his mind, not to let it slide away, even if that last thought seemed important.

He breathed, and pure, vivid pain engulfed him, devouring his nerves. He would have screamed, if only he had had the strength to do so. But he was still conscious, still focused on the obsessive need of escaping.

_A safe place._

He clung to the shard with what little strength he had left, feeling it burning against his palm.

_Far away from here. Any place._

The stones surrounding him became blurred, then they started whirling around, or maybe it was only his imagination, because even his hold on his magic was becoming weaker and weaker. He tried to not let it go, without caring about anything else. He didn't know who or where he was anymore, he didn't know why he was tormenting a devastated body which had already crossed its limits. Only the spell mattered.

For a moment, the pain erased any other thing, even the shard in his hand.

He emerged from the agony only to see the paths of Yggdrasil unraveling in front of him, even if he didn't know whether it was real or just an illusion caused by a foolish hope. Then his eyes closed shut and this time his mind faded out for good.

 


	13. Chapter 12: Just a simple, friendly dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another unbetaed, not very long chapter, featuring Tony, a dinner and an unexpected noise. Hope it won't disappoint you. Thank you for your feedbacks, they're always very appreciated!

**Chapter 12: Just a simple, friendly dinner**

 

“So, to what do I owe such a lovely dinner?” Pepper asked with a tiny smile, while handing him her glass.

Tony smiled back and poured a good amount of champagne in it, before doing the same with his own.

“I wanted to thank you for your work. You know, taking care of Stark Industries, tormenting Fury while I'm missing, forgetting to scold me for the last few meetings I skipped, something like that.”

Pepper's smile became less unsure, even if her eyes still showed that caution that made him feel like he was both a sickly person who would exhale his last breath for a wrong word and a Hulk ready to explode to the tiniest, unwitting provocation.

He had appreciated such a behavior from his teammates, when he still felt the need to shield himself with a wall of silence and solitude. Now, thought, that period had passed, at least partially, and if there was a person he didn't want to see cautious towards himself, that was Pepper.

He finished the last bite of meat in silence. The main course had been an excellent filet that the arrogant chef he had hired had presented as the 'senses' absolute delight'. He didn't agree much, maybe because refined food never had the appeal of a cheeseburger, for him. Pepper had liked it quite a lot, though, so he felt satisfied.

He waited for her to finish, then he sighed.

“I guess I owe you an apology.”

Pepper put the fork down, her eyes studying him with an attention that didn't hide her surprise.

“I wasn't trying to avoid you, in the last few days. Or weeks,” he forced himself to continue. “It's just that I have a lot to on my mind, a thousand things to do, and you know how terrible I am at keeping track of time when I'm in the lab and with basic social interactions.”

“Tony...”

He lifted his hand to stop her.

“But I wanted to reassure you. I'm not dying, I'm not drinking too much, I'm not plotting some new homicide, not even Fury's.”

For a moment there was only silence, then Pepper shook her head.

“And to think that I feared you were preparing me for some kind of catastrophic news,” she said, without smiling, but her eyes were gave away all her relief.

“Like what?”

Her lips quivered.

“A secret son.”

“With a journalist?”

“Too predictable. I'm going to say with a politician, or with a member of one of the European royal families. Or,” and Pepper assumed a pensive look “you could have punched some famous and important guy while I wasn't here. Or maybe you hacked into the Pentagon.”

Tony lifted his glass in a toast.

“Not bad, but no, no and already done when I was in college.”

He drank the last sip of the champagne, then he started taking away the dishes, immediately stopping her protests – “at least do you know what to do with them?” “Don't worry, I have everything under control” and he could always ask Jarvis later – and then he brought the dessert.

Pepper looked at her serving with what seemed approval, then met his eyes and gave him the first true smile of the evening. Tony had forgotten how much beautiful she was without the worry or the suspicion on her face. If he had had any doubts regarding that dinner, may them be the fear of making a false step or the worry she could find that invitation more meaningful than he meant it be – or even the opposite, that he would be the deluded one – that smile would have been enough to make him sure he had made the right choice.

“I must admit it's a relief that I don't have to face any traumatic scenario.” Pepper had talked with an ironical note, but it was clear how sincere her words were. “And with the world safety? How is it going? You told me about Thor' return, but that was all.” She stopped abruptly. “Of course, unless it's something above my clearance level.”

“Why? You really think I care about things like that?”

There was a sigh.

“I would never dare. I lost count of how many times you tried to tell me information you should have kept for yourself.”

“You never let me. You're too dutiful, Pep. And to think I was sure I managed to push you to the dark side, after that wonderful initiative of the Skynet protocol.”

“Now that you are back, you need someone to bring you to the light side.”

“I disagree, I've always found the light side a bit overrated.” And with that comment he tried to end the subject focusing on his dessert, but he realized he didn't have any teaspoons. Or any spoons at all, for what mattered. Neither had Pepper. He stood up and played a quick round of scavenger hunt, managing to recover a couple of teaspoons after two failed attempts and a silent curse to the fact that setting the table for a proper meal was more complex than he had anticipated, while he felt Pepper's half amused and half fond gaze on his nape.

“Anyway, now it's me who sets the rule and you're the person I trust the most in, let's say, the universe, so just ask away,” he told her, while passing her a teaspoon.

Pepper took it with a nod, trying to hide a moved expression and failing.

“Okay then”. She cleared her throat. “Are there some news?”

He shrugged.

“Not really. Thor reported some information we already knew. Big bad who's invincible and a threat for whole existence, one-eyed asshole father who's not going to lift a finger to help us, and so on. Now he's gone visiting Foster for a few days. Natasha and Legolas are on a mission to kick Coulson's ass, even if I don't think Fury realized that when he sent them to him so that they could exchange information.” He paused, before assuming a more serious tone. “If you want, if Agent is going to show his face and ugly hairstyle here, I cant keep him still while you stab his feet with your pointy heels.”

Pepper smiled.

“I think I'll just talk to him, but thanks for the thought.”

“You're welcome.”

“So now only half Avengers are here?”

“Yeah. Only Bruce and Capsicle, aside from me, even if I think Capsicle has gone seeing a movie, tonight. I suspect he's having a midlife crisis, it's been days that he stays awake after ten pm.”

In Pepper's eyes there was a sparkle of amused interest.

“A movie? Is he going out with someone?”

“Actually I don't know. There was a waitress who was making doe eyes at him, but I doubt he even noticed.”

With Pepper, even talking about Steve didn't bring the usual edge of bitterness and annoyance that he had associated with him after their fight.

Yes, that dinner had definitely been a brilliant idea.

He had just taken the first bite of the dessert – a minicake with chocolate and mascarpone – when a faraway thud startled him.

“Sir, you should go immediately in your bedroom,” Jarvis broke the silence before he could said anything.

“Is it an attack?” But Fury couldn't be so stupid he broke the truce between them and he surely could never be already inside his tower with no warnings from his AI. His mind ran to the suit and to Pepper, who had already stood up and was ready to intervene. “Is there danger?”

“Not at the moment, but I suggest you to hurry.”

And at that point he didn't hesitate anymore, because there could be only one reason for Jarvis to act all mysterious like that.

While his heart beat so fast it seemed prone to break through the Reactor, he ran towards his bedroom. Pepper was just behind him, he heard her high heeled shoes ticking close to his back, but he didn't have the time to think about it, not in that moment, because as soon as he passed the door he froze, incapable of moving or speaking.

Lying down in a pool of blood, with his face covered by dirty hair and his skin of a blue shade he would recognize anywhere, there was Loki.

 


	14. Chapter 13: A nameless fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another unbetaed chapter, but longer than the previous ones. I hope you'll like it^^
> 
> Thank you for your comments and kudos, and have a merry Christmas or, if you don't celebrate it, a good weekend!

**Chapter 13: A nameless fear**

 

For a moment, he didn't know how to react.

His brain was stuck, it froze as soon as he had reached his bedroom like a computer with too little RAM, only it didn't have any reboot options.

Loki was there, a naked body on the floor in the same bedroom where, only a few weeks before, he had proposed an alliance and his words had echoed in a too deep silence, only to be met by a refusal. Now the god was there again, but he was laying on his stomach and wasn't moving. His wrists were chained and his dirty body and unkempt hair showed even too well what had happened to him, but the detail that had captured Tony's gaze was his skin: a deep blue, the same color he had just caught a glimpse of during his days as his hostage, before he had found himself facing the deep contempt and self-hatred in those green eyes.

_And that time Loki had arrived with his chest broken and a chunk of his side missing, oozing blood, more similar to a corpse than to someone who was still alive, and yet the true color of his skin hadn't passed his elbow and had disappeared after a few moments._

He launched himself at him with a sudden fear crushing his chest. Pepper was talking, he recognized her voice, but everything was overwhelmed by the sound of his own heart beating too fast. The god was covered in so much blood that he couldn't understand if his wounds were still open or even  _where_ he was wounded.

He brushed his dirty hair away from his face, searching for a sign that he was still alive, but as soon as he tried to touch his neck he pulled his hand back with a hiss. Loki's skin seemed like it had the same temperature as liquid nitrogen. It was cold, maybe even colder than ice. And the air in the room was cold too. Only then he realized he was shivering, even if he didn't feel the cold, or at least not enough for him to care. Not in that situation.

Loki wasn't answering.

“Come on, it's not the time for jokes.”

With a painful anxiety devouring his stomach, he started looking for his pulse again, ignoring the burning. Then, when his hand was just becoming numb, he felt the pained, broken version of a breathing coming from the god and he suddenly discovered he could properly breathe himself.

He wasn't dead. _He could save him._

He turned around, remembering the presence at his back.

“Pepper, help me. He's still alive.” He didn't wait to see her following his instructions and returned to look at the unconscious god again. “Hold on, Rock of Ages.”

Pepper was at his side a moment later.

“Who is it? Do you know him?”

“It's Loki. Help me turn him on his back, but it's better if you grab a sheet, first, because his skin is colder than ice.”

Pepper tensed and retreated immediately.

“What?!”

He sent her a distracted glance, before cursing silently, because Pepper didn't know, she couldn't understand what it meant for him to have the dying god at his feet, in his room.

“Loki. The little shit with leather pants and horned elm that now is our ally. Or at least I think he'll be if we manage to save him.”

Using the sheet to shield his hands as he suggested, he tried to turn him on his back, careful not to worsen his conditions. Loki was as heavy as he remembered him to be, and he searched for Pepper, but his CEO had already taken a step back, without even meeting his gaze, keeping her wide eyes focused on the unconscious god.

“Jarvis, call Bruce and Steve.”

“No! I'll take care of him,” Tony yelled, while struggling to move the god.

When he managed to roll him on his back and caught a glimpse of his chest, he had to stop breathing or he would gag. From behind his back, Pepper made a strangled sound. Tony could see the god's bones in what was left of his chest: ribs, sternum, fragments of bones of strange aspect, like they had melted and then solidified again in the wrong shapes. The rest of his chest was made of blackened flesh, damaged lungs and burnt skin.

Given his conditions, Tony almost couldn't believe he had seen him breathing.

“Damn, Rock of Ages, just heal yourself! Where is your scepter?” He looked around with helplessness torturing his chest, because there was nothing in the bedroom, just the body of a dying god. “Jarvis, I want a full body scan.”

“For an accurate scan he should be in your lab, sir.”

“I don't care, for now I just need his vitals and his general conditions. We'll think later of the broken bones and similar wounds.”

“Tony...”

He dared to shift his attention from Loki to Pepper. His CEO was so pale she seemed about to faint. Not even the hand she was covering her mouth with managed to hide how horrified she was. As much as Loki's ruined body had upset her, though, the worry inside her eyes was all for Tony.

“I promise we're going to talk about it as soon as we can, but now there's no time.”

She swallowed with another strangled sound and many different emotions crossed her gaze, before she nodded. It was all Tony needed to find his balance again.

“So, Jarv, what's your diagnosis?”

“Loki's chest is covered in fourth-degree burns, it is probable that both of his lungs has collapsed and that his internal organs had suffered severe damages. Judging from its angulation, his right leg seems to be broken in at least two different places and his limbs present several stab wounds. His internal temperature is getting lower and has already affected the whole room. This helps stopping the bleeding, but his metabolism has slowed down so much that I fear his vital functions are compromised, by now.”

“Bullshit! He's a god, he doesn't have human vital functions.”

“I considered mister Odinson as basis of comparison,” Jarvis replied, voice that almost sounded apologizing.

Tony closed his eyes with such strength his temples started throbbing. Jarvis was wrong, he had to be. When he opened his eyes again, he ignored the clench beneath his Reactor, he ignored Pepper's eyes on his nape, he ignored his own trembling hands. Instead, he returned searching for the god's pulse, because he would never surrender like that.

“Look at me, Loki. I know you're not so easy to kill.”

But truth was he didn't have the slightest idea of what to do.

The god was dying, his body was too damaged for Tony to know how to start his attempt to put him back together and this time there wouldn't be any Reactors to do the miracle.

Pepper's hand appeared on his shoulder, a soft touch that brought a silent consolation, like even his CEO knew that there were no hopes to save the god. Tony almost hated her, for a moment.

He closed his hands into fists to refrain himself from doing something impulsive, like driving her away or grabbing her hand to look for comfort; then he tensed, without breathing, his disbelieving gaze focused on what should have been a corpse.

Loki had opened his eyes.

 

 

 

Pain.

Again that sharp, unbearable pain.

But it wasn't the only thing he felt.

In his hand, there was something belonging to him, a warm shard that carried both a reassurance and the memory of a scorching hot flame – a flash of pure panic, accompanied by a laughter, mockery and threat at the same time, the solitude of his cold, dark cell, where he could have a few moments of truce before torture started again, but he couldn't accept it, he needed to believe he wasn't there anymore.

There was a smooth surface beneath his back, another detail that hit him like a wrong note in the agony which was overwhelming his every thought, preventing him to truly wake up. And he could hear a voice, even if its words reached him in a distorted sound that held no meanings.

_A safe place._

While in his cell, he had used his only glimpse of lucidity to focus on that desperate request, and for a moment he let himself hope, because if there was smooth floor under his devastated body and someone was calling him, instead of using pain to make him regain his consciousness, he couldn't be still trapped in the worst of his nightmares.

Or maybe the nightmare was still trapping him, maybe it was exactly what he was experimenting. A more insidious nightmare than the usual, because it was torturing him with the possibility of safety only to take it away from him as soon as he really started believing it.

Again the voice reached him among the disordered fragments of his mind, an agitated sound where he could find more worry than threat.

He tried to breathe, forcing his burnt lungs to grab the air he desperately needed and again the pain pierced him, threatening to throw him into a dark abyss from where he wasn't sure he would be able to emerge again. He struggled to fight against it, second after second, but he was so tired...

Tired to fight for every breathe, to survive in a world where he would receive only pain. And yet, he had to know.

He opened his eyes.

“Loki!”

His name. Not one of the usual idiotic epithets. Not something offensive.

He blinked, to free his eyes from the dark shroud that was still trying to turn off his sight and his consciousness. Above him there was his mortal.

_He was expecting Asgard._

He focused on Stark's face, making it his only thought, the only thing that mattered in his reality. Keeping his eyes on the familiar features helped him ignoring the abyss that was just a breath away.

“Loki, look at me. You're safe, here. We're going to take care of you.”

_We?_

There was someone standing next to his mortal. A blurred shape, long hair, too fast breathing. A woman, but not Romanoff. If only he had had some kind of control on his body, he would have tensed.

Stark turned his head for a moment, before focusing on him again.

“It's okay, she's Pepper, she's on our side.”

The mortal placed one hand on his shoulder and it was so warm it burnt him. In a distant part of his mind, an alarm started ringing, but it was too far away, too confused for him to realize what it was about.

He used all his will to move, he didn't know if to push the hand away or to place his own on it, so that he could have something tangible to hold on to, the proof that the mortal was truly there with him. But he was too weak and the best he could do was to move his arms a little, with a rattling sound.

His wrists were still chained and as soon as he was hit by that thought he suddenly felt the wall standing between him and his magic, a wedge separating him from his powers, as vivid as a scar and as painful as a newly inflicted wound.

The Tesseract shard was still in his possession, hidden in his fist, but as exhausted as he was, he would never be able to use it if he didn't free himself from the handcuffs first.

“Chains,” he wheezed, with voice so weak and rough that it sounded foreign to his own ears.

Stark brushed against his trapped wrists.

“You mean these? I'm taking them off, now.”

He managed to nod, but that movement and his attempt to talk had exhausted all of his energy. With pain still devouring his nerves, he fainted again.

 


	15. Chapter 14: Holding his breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait. I wanted to give you a betaed chapter, but since I preferred not making you wait any lonver, here it is the new chapter! It's quite long but unbetaed, hope you'll like it anyway.
> 
> Thank you so much for your feedbacks, as always they're very appreciated :)

**Chapter 14: Holding his breath**

 

The grip on his chest had suddenly disappeared. That nameless fear of watching the god dying under his eyes was still there, but every emotion of his was overwhelmed by the urgency to act, a fight against time where he finally had hope and a starting point.

Again he felt the same stubbornness that had allowed him to not give up in that cave, in Afghanistan, when his life had seemed to be doomed and he had had a hole in his chest that ached at his every breath, reminding him that every second of his life had been stolen from a too close death.

“Jarvis, my suit. And get my lab ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

The hand on his shoulder, that had disappeared as soon as Loki had opened his eyes, touched him again, in a silent request of attention.

“What do you want to do?”

“I'm moving him where I can take care of him.”

He took a couple of steps back and widened his arms while the briefcase with his suit flew towards him, because Jarvis hadn't lost any time. It only took a few seconds for his suit to cover him, except for the face, since the head plate remained lifted, but he was holding his breath anyway when he returned to stare at the unconscious god, caught by the irrational fear that detaching his eyes from him would have resulted in his death.

“Are you sure this is the best choice? To move him while he's so wounded...”

Pepper was keeping her distance, but Tony could hear in her voice the same horror that had tainted her face.

“You heard him. I have to take off those old fashion handcuffs and we don't have the necessary equipment here.” He spared her just one glance before crouching over the god, forcing out a smile. “Besides, this godly jerk is way more resilient than us humans.”

There was a moment of silence, the time he needed to check Loki's vitals – and the god was still alive, he was breathing, a low, hissing sound that proved how painful it had to be for him to force his damaged chest and lungs to work – before he dared to try to move him.

Slowly, with the utmost care, he put one arm under the god's back and the other under his thighs. Then he closed his eyes for a moment and stood up.

The silence became deafening.

He wasn't breathing, nor was Pepper, judging from the complete lack of noises in the room, but then there was that agonizing hiss again, coming from the body he was carrying in his arms, so Tony slowly exhaled in relief.

With no more hesitations, he started walking towards the elevator.

“We're almost there, it's going to be fine” he murmured, more to himself than to the god, but somehow he couldn't shake the feeling that saying those words out loud would make them true.

What mattered was to reach the lab, to destroy those heavy handcuffs and to hope that Loki's powers managed to heal his dying body. He would think of everything else – of the explanations he owed his CEO, of how to breach the subject of Loki being in his tower to his teammates, of what all that would mean for him – in another moment.

He took another breath, his eyes focused on the strained face of the god.

Pepper was still behind him, a presence which was impossible to forget, despite her being silent.

It was only when he entered the elevator, with his suit shielding him like his safest and most reliable defense even if his face plat was still up, that he dared to meet her eyes.

“You're coming?”

Pepper was terribly pale, but nodded anyway.

“What do you think happened?” she asked him while the elevator started its descent.

For a moment, Tony had to consciously refrain himself from strengthening his grip on the body he was carrying.

“Thanos. The alien threat we're getting ready to face. Loki had to retrieve some information about him.”

He took a deep breath, in the attempt to calm down and to ignore the turmoil invading his chest. Rage and worry were both devouring him, because if Thanos had managed to wound the seemingly indestructible god to that extent, then he had to be a terrifying enemy, an opponent on another level compared to the threats the Avengers had fought until that moment, but at the same time Tony felt the burning urge to face that alien bastard and hit him and make him suffer for the awful wounds that stood out on Loki's body.

At his side, Pepper was as still as a statue.

“What if it's a trap?”

“Did you see how hurt he is?” Tony snapped, sounding angrier than he had wanted to be with her, but the body in his arms was unmoving and so cold he was shivering even from inside his suit.

A fleeting worry, together with some hurt, emerged from Pepper's face.

“I didn't mean Loki. Thanos, it could be his trap, doesn't it? That would explain why Loki appeared in your bedroom.”

“And where else should he have gone?”

The elevator stopped before there was time for a reply and Tony immediately walked towards the lightened up part of his lab, laying down the god onto the operating table, but his own words were repeating themselves in his mind, like he only realized their meaning after he had said them out loud.

Loki had no one. At least not anymore, since he had disowned his brother and father. Or maybe there was someone, the mother he had never spoken about, but still the god had decided to come to him.

Whether it had happened out of instinct or because of a conscious choice, Loki had ended up looking for safety in his tower.  _In his room_ . And that had happened exactly when he was more vulnerable and helpless than he had ever appeared.

Something beneath his Reactor started aching.

_And that asshole still kept denying he was madly in love with him._

“Jarvis, give me a total body scan and continue monitoring his vitals. But first, analyze the handcuffs.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony pulled back only to allow his suit to return to the briefcase form, then he was at Loki's side again. Next to him, the cold was so intense he shivered and he wasn't surprise to see Pepper keeping her distance.

“So, Jarv? These god-proof handcuffs?”

“The chains are made of an alloy of several unknown materials and they emit radiations on the same spectrum as Mjolnir. The radiations interfere with Loki's energy. As for his condition, it's slowly but steadily worsening. I'm still doing the body scan.”

“Good boy.”

He put on the gloves of his suit and gently grabbed one of the god's wrists, hesitating just for a moment with his eyes focused on the blue shade of his skin, which in other circumstances he would have taken time to contemplate. One vain attempt to break the chains let him know that brute strength, even the strength of his suit, wouldn't be enough to free the god, if he didn't want to risk hurting Loki more. He had other resources, though.

“Let's see who's gonna win between magic and science,” he muttered, activating the laser.

Careful not to touch Loki's skin, he started digging a breach through the alien metal, inch after inch, his mind focused only on the obsessive need of freeing the god.

 

 

 

The chains around his wrists were burning his skin.

Something was trying to break through the web of runes that were trapping his powers. A little, faraway hope. To have his magic back was his only chance to save himself, but at every moment a stab of pain was added to the agony that was already devouring his body. The shroud that had enveloped him and stolen his sight was too heavy, too suffocating and merciless, to allow him a rebellion.

His mind wavered and almost shut off.

_No._

He held onto that word, refusing to surrender, now that he was so close to safety.

_Stark._

He had seen his mortal's face among the confused images that had accompanied his last awakening. He was too weak to react, to fight against death, but Stark was there. He could feel his presence even from the limbo where his consciousness was floating.

Another stab hit his wrists, but he barely felt it through the deeper, more unbearable pain that hadn't stopped tormenting his chest yet.

He just had to breathe, even if it was becoming more and more difficult at each passing second.

Then something shattered around him and he felt a call reaching his foggy mind and awakening it before it drifted away.

_His magic._

It was still out of his reach, but the walls of the cage trapping it were becoming thinner and they seemed about to disappear.

He tried to call for his powers, to awaken his whole consciousness and not just the fragments of thought that gave him the awareness to be alive. His magic answered in a hot wave of reassurance, and every fiber of him stretched towards that crack of freedom that would give him his powers back, he was so close, he was almost there...

It lasted only a moment, the time for his clouded mind to catch a faraway glimpse of hope, only to see it disappearing as soon as he tried to grab it.

The bond with his magic was cut off in the blink of an eye, the crack of his cage closed and this time his mind drifted away for good.

 

 

 

Tony watched the chains with bitter, upset disbelief.

The laser had dug into the unknown metal without any difficulties, but the breach he had created with such care, so that he wouldn't hurt the god, had closed in a few seconds thanks to the chains regenerating themselves. A handful of too precious minutes had been wasted without him making any progresses.

_Fucking magic._

“Jarvis, what about using the new prototype against these handcuffs?”

“I would advise against it, sir. Judging from the data you gave me, to activate an anti-magic field close to Loki could result in weakening or even in harming him, especially while he is in such precarious condition.”

He had feared so. He strengthened his grip on the god's wrist, then he started working with the laser again, faster than before.

Since that strange metal was able to regenerate itself, he needed to speed up. Again he dug a breach in the handcuffs, until he almost reached Loki's wrist in half the time than before, but he had just moved to work on the other side of the chains, with the intention of weakening the metal to the point he would be able to break it with his suit, when the chains became whole again, faster this time, like they were able to adapt to the pace at which they were being damaged.

“U, came here and help me with another laser.”

Other two minutes passed, too fast, and again he couldn't make any progress, because now the handcuffs showed the ability of closing both the breaches at the same time. He doubted that adding Dum-E to the two of them would make any difference, by now.

He stopped, a bitter feeling filling his mouth. He had failed. He had found the god still alive, but now he wasn't able to help him. Instead, he had lost time and Loki almost didn't have any more left. His hissing breath had already become weaker and barely audible.

There was a movement from behind his back, but he almost didn't notice it. All what he could think about were more and more desperate solutions that could never work, or would be too slow, and the weight of his failure was starting to suffocate him.

_Not like that._

Loki had trusted him with his life. He had come to him despite his severe wounds, hoping to find salvation, and he was betraying him, with his inability to grant the god's only request.

He closed his eyes, fighting against the knot of anxiety and bitterness that was stuck in his throat, but it was growing bigger and heavier at every passing breath, at every moment lost in a useless work that would only bring the god closer to his death. He wasn't even able to keep his hands from trembling anymore.

“Try using this.”

He startled at Pepper's voice, because he he had forgotten she was there too.

He turned to face her, lowering his gaze towards her stretched out hands.

“A handkerchief?”

She gave him a sheepish smile.

“I don't know how magic works, but maybe you just need to stick something in the breach to prevent the chains to repair themselves.”

Overwhelmed by the urge to get rid of the handcuffs, Tony didn't even try to protest. He got back to work, instead, creating another breach inch after inch while sticking the handkerchief as Pepper had suggested, even if he was sure it would only be another failure.

A couple of seconds passed in a silence filled only by his fears, without him breathing. And yet, nothing happened.

The handkerchief was still preventing the chains to restore the damage he had done to them. A simple cloth winning over enchanted metal.

He suddenly sprang into motion.

“U,” he called, motioning him to work on the other side.

While his robot started digging into the metal, he tore a piece of the handkerchief and then used it to keep the second breach open, then he did the same work – laser and cloth – on the chain that connected Loki's wrist. When only a couple of thin stripes of metal were holding the chains together, he grabbed the handcuffs from both sides and pulled.

There was a crash, then the found himself holding two pieces of chain which seemed alive, since they were writhing in his grasp.

He strengthened his grip, almost expecting them to attack him, or to attempt reaching the god to trap him again, but soon the engraving on their surface lightened up like many silver strands and after a moment the light faded out. A moment later, the chains became lifeless.

He kept his eyes focused on them, still not really believing what had happened. A powerful alien magic had been defeated not thanks to his genial mind, not thanks to some new creation of his, but thanks to the simplest of solutions.

He looked at the god, who was still unmoving. At his devastated body, at his wounds. There was no signs indicating that Loki had realized he had been freed, but he was still alive.

Now that his desperation was fading away, allowing him to really feel the cold, Tony couldn't suppress a shiver. And yet, his hands were trembling for the need to touch the god, to feel that foreign skin under his fingers, to find his pulse and have the most tangible proof that he was living, despite the odds.

“Jarvis, prepare a containment case.”

“Of course, but I can tell you already that the chains aren't emitting any radiations anymore.”

“That's good, but I prefer not taking any risks.”

“You're being unusually wise, sir.”

Tony didn't reply and just put the two pieces of the chains into the case Dum-E had brought him. He was already too busy brushing the blue skin of Loki's damaged wrists with the tip of his gloves to care about bantering with his AI.

“His vitals?”

There was a too long pause that made his mind drift towards the worst hypothesis.

“Still very weak, but they're not worsening anymore.”

He breathed out in silent relief, pulling his hand back. It wasn't over yet.

“Warn me if there's a change in that.”

Only then he lifted his eyes from the unconscious god and turned to meet Pepper's gaze.

“Have I ever told you I adore you?”

She gave him a small smile.

“Not in the last few weeks.”

She still couldn't suppress the worry on her face, but she hadn't gotten away yet. She came closer, instead, with a slight shiver due to the cold.

“What now?” she asked, staring at Loki.

Tony followed her gaze and again his eyes met the horrors on the god's body: cuts, burns and bruises that covered almost every inch of his skin and that not even the blood or the dirt managed to hide. With so many wounds on him, it seemed impossible he was still alive and, despite his hopes, Tony knew Loki was too hurt to heal himself.

“Now we try to put him back together.”

 


	16. Chapter 15: The doctor is in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive, even if I'm terribly busy. Sorry for the late update, I really can't understand how it is possible that I have less free time now than when I worked a full time job... Anyway, I'll try to update faster in the future, but I can't promise anything, at least for now, so if you can't stand slow updates I just wanted to warn you in advance and to thank you for having me followed me so far. If you're still interest in this story of mine, I promise I'll never abandon it and I'll keep updating it, even if not as often or as regularly as I'd have wanted. In both cases, I thank you for your support.
> 
> Without making promises, I should be able to update again during this month, or at least I'll try to.
> 
> One last thing: this chapter isn't betaed, but I thought it was better to update now, since I've already made you wait so long. Thank you for your comments and kudos, I hope this chapter will be readable enough.

**Chapter 15: The doctor is in**

 

Bruce was reading. Kind of. He was browsing through the pages without really understanding what his distracted eyes were putting into focus, but it didn't matter. Another half hour of that fake pastime and then he would be able to go to bed pretending to have spent a pleasurable evening with the company of his favorite book.

He sighed, recognizing the cold voice of his inner irony ready to mock him for that pitiful moment of weakness.

He would have made some tea, if he hadn't already had a cup in the last twenty minutes.

Now he had nothing he could use as a distraction, aside from a book he couldn't concentrate on, and the knowledge of what was happening a few floor from him was too vivid.

During the last few days, Pepper had often talked to him, always with a friendly but detached behavior, like she wanted him to know that there wouldn't be a follow-up to the mistake of several weeks before. It was exactly what he wanted: with Pepper so detached, to erase the memory of her mouth against his, or the thought of how long it had been since the last time he had held a woman in his arms, would be easier for him. But still, he couldn't avoid the feeling he had lost something. Or someone.

Pepper had never been his, and yet the most egoistical part of him felt a bitter lump inside his chest when he thought about the dinner Tony had planned – a dinner he had helped to organize, suggesting the chef, helping his friend choosing the menu, before disappearing with his book into his floor. After that night, Tony and Pepper would probably be together again.

He was happy for the both of them, he could say that without lying or pretending to be a better person than he actually was. But he couldn't deny feeling something akin regret.

He sighed again, lifting his eyes from the page he had been reading for the last ten minutes without understanding a single word of it. Then he closed the book.

Time to end that moment of self-pity. He had already a lot, in his life, since he had met Tony. More than he would ever expect, with the Hulk inside himself and a past he had been trying to escape from for whole years. And now he had a best friend, a home, a team. The most similar thing to a family he had ever hoped to have.

He smiled briefly.

Aside from an alien invasion, everything was going well.

Tony was back to his former self, now. Sometimes he was distracted, the way he talked about Loki was still alarming, but he wasn't depressed or out of control anymore. When Bruce was in the lab with him, he didn't feel that suffocating desperation that had surrounded Tony after he had come back, nor did he see the signs of alcohol and exhaustion on his face anymore – not more than the usual, at least.

If Tony managed to get close to Pepper again, it would be for the better: the two people he cared the most would have their happy ending and he would be happy for them. If that sense of loss returned to stab him when he felt particularly lonely and vulnerable, he would simply ignore it.

He stretched the muscles in his back and yawned, ready to left the cozy armchair in favor of the bed, when his cellphone rang.

It was Tony. He answered with a glimpse of worry, even if it wouldn't be the first time that his friend called him so late.

“Tony?”

“Hi, Bruce. I didn't wake you, did I?”

Bruce lowered his eyes on the watch. A quarter past eleven pm, and he doubted his friend was calling him in the middle of his dinner.

“I was reading. Did something happen?”

Maybe Pepper had already left, refusing his attempt to get together again. Despite his fleeting moments of jealousy, Bruce hoped that was not the case.

“No, everything's peachy, don't worry. I just happen to have some little medical doubts.”

“Shouldn't you be asking a true doctor about that?”

“You know I don't like those guys in white coats. So, out of curiosity, how would you treat serious burns? Just at a totally theoretical level, of course.”

The melancholic peace of a night spent at home with a book and some pleasantly hot tea was replaced by a sudden spurt of adrenaline.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yes, as I already said there's nothing to worry about.”

Which, with Tony, meant the exact opposite. But that night he wasn't supposed to be down in the lab, not with Pepper there. Bruce frowned, hit by a suspicion.

“I thought you hired a chef.”

“I did. Now, if you don't mind answering my question, so I can let you go to sleep and return to dinner... Pepper and I still have to eat the dessert. Wonderful suggestion that Italian chef, by the way, I owe you one.”

“You're welcome,” Bruce absentmindedly replied. He suppressed the questions that were ready to escape from his lips only because he knew that Tony would continue deflecting them and chatting without pause about something else if he didn't give him the answer he wanted. “About the burns, it depends on how serious they are. For minor burns just some cold water could be enough.” But he didn't believe it even for one second that Tony didn't already know it, given how careless he was when he worked with lasers, blowtorch and similar dangerous things. Moreover, Bruce was sure he had caught an edge of true anxiety in his friend's voice. “In a more serious case, the best course of action would be to call for an ambulance and in the meanwhile to cover the hurt portion of the body with a wet towel and maybe try to keep the wounded person hydrated through an IV.”

“Okay, noted everything. Some other suggestions?”

Bruce hadn't been imagining things: the anxiety was there, Tony was trying to sound calm and ironical, but his breathing was faster than usual and the teasing note in his voice wasn't natural.

“Where are the burns?”

“On a chest. Let's say on most of the frontal area of a torso. And maybe there are also some breathing problems. And there might be a consistent blood loss too and some broken bones.”

“What?!”

Bruce heard some rustling sounds, Tony talking with someone, too far away from the microphone for him to recognize the words, then a muffled curse.

“Nothing, forget about it. Thanks for your help, I knew I could count on you. Good night,” his friend said to him, before hanging up.

Bruce barely listened to him.

Serious burns, breathing problems, broken bones, all in what was supposed to be a normal, friendly dinner. Tony's voice which couldn't hide the anxiety and the fear. Tony telling him that everything was okay but at the same time he was asking him for medical suggestions.

And he and Pepper were the only two people on his floor.

Not caring that he was dressed in his pajama, Bruce ran towards the elevator, hearing a roar echoing inside his mind while the Other Guy was assaulting his consciousness like a storm.

 

 

 

“Sir, Doctor Banner is in the elevator.”

“What do you mean in the elevator?”

“He run into it after you ended the phone call. He will arrive on your floor in sixteen seconds.”

Tony curse, while struggling to find the vein for the IV.

“Just block him. I'm busy.”

Until then, everything was going well: wet towel put in position, IV almost ready, vital signs always too low but stable. Loki was still doing that broken, painful hiss which was his breathing and Pepper had become a silent nurse ready to help him with his every initiative. She was sending him same sharp glances, but she was at his side, giving him way more comfort and reassurance he thought he would get.

Sure, Bruce would have been much more of help in person than through the phone, but Tony was sure that showing him their almost dead archenemy would be a terrible idea. Plus, he already owed Pepper some kind of explanation, once the emergency would be over. To have also Bruce's eyes on him while he tried to explain his actions would be too much.

The IV started to freeze, and he cursed again.

He made a motion to grab it, but then he noticed that the wet towel on Loki's burnt chest had an odd shape. It seemed rigid, now. Tiny ice shards had appeared on its surface, giving Tony the bad feeling he had made a grave mistake in applying the standard medical procedures for humans on an alien whose biology was unknown.

“Sir, Doctor Banner is reacting in a very negative way at being trapped in the elevator.”

_Not that too._

“Try to keep him calm.”

“Tony. You can't expect him to let go,” Pepper murmured form the other side of the god. She was bandaging a deep wound on his thigh, her movements clumsy because of the gloves she was wearing. Before Tony called Bruce, she had gone to his floor and brought some clothes back for the both of them, since the room was still chilly. The temperature had risen slightly after Tony had destroyed the chains, but being next to Loki still felt like being inside a freezer.

Tony let the IV go, looking for a source of warmth that wouldn't hurt the god.

“Why not? I reassured him, I tol-” He stopped in mid sentence, replaying the conversation with Bruce in his mind and thinking of how it would seem from the point of view of someone who knew him very well; then he rubbed his tired eyes and sighed. “I guess you're right.”

“Sir, Doctor Banner is showing a high level of stress. I fear he won't be able to control the Hulk for much longer.”

“Put me through.”

Above the desk that wasn't full of medical supplies and other things Dum-E had dutifully assembled, the hologram of the elevator appeared. The image's resolution was so high that Tony could see the drops of sweat on Bruce's forehead, his half closed lips and, like the fate was toying with him, the little green Hulks on the light blue background that decorated his clothes.

“I knew you would have liked my present. It looks great on you,” Tony commented, his eyes focused on the Hulk themed pajama he had left some months before inside his friend's closet.

Bryce startled, before lifting his gaze to where he knew the camera was.

“What's going on?”

“Nothing you should worry about, really. I told you everything is under control, I'm fit as a fiddle. Jarvis, tell him that I'm in great shape.”

“Mister Stark is in great shape, Doctor Banner.”

Bruce's breathing was too deep, it almost broke every time he inhaled, like he was struggling to keep it steady.

“I know you're okay, you wouldn't be able to talk to me if the one with the burns and the respiratory problems were you.” His voice died down for a moment, while he passed his hand through his hair. “What about Pepper?”

“She's great, she's more than fine. Lovely, even, if she didn't want to strangle me, of course.”

At the edge of his vision, Tony could see her hinting a smile, without detaching her gaze from the god. She was bandaging his left arm, now, and despite her too pale face and the turmoil in her eyes she still hadn't spoken a word in protest.

“What happened?” Bruce asked again, his voice more urgent.

“Promise me you will at least try to remain calm.”

Bruce grimaced.

“You know that starting with such words after having trapped me in here it's not the greatest way to help me remaining calm, do you?”

“I didn't ask for you to come babysit me.”

A hand slammed against the elevator wall, a hand dangerously close to become green. Bruce's shoulders were trembling.

“Tell me what's happening!”

Tony swallowed, then he took a deep breath.

“Remember when we were talking about Loki, and I feared he had been captured while you said he was probably planning how to screw us all for good?”

Bruce took a deep breath too, pulling his hand back slowly and then he nodded.

“Well, it turned out, I'm the one who's right.”

 


	17. Chapter 16: The broken god

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time I'm updating quite fast! The chapter is unbetaed, but I felt guilty about how long it took to me to update last time, so here it is the new chapter. I hope you'll like it. Also, thank you so much for your comments and feedbacks in general, I'm always happy to receive them :)

**Chapter 16: The broken god**

 

It was cold in the lab.  _Very_ cold.

Bruce had to stop just outside the elevator, breathing deeply to control himself, while the Hulk's roar was echoing in his head as the most immediate reaction for a place that his alter ego was perceiving as a threat. He put his hands under his armpits to try to keep them warm and focused on the people in the lab. Tony, dressed in several layers of sweaters and hoodies, was busy checking an IV. His movements were frantic, they lacked the self-confidence he used to show while he was working on his inventions. Pepper was on the opposite side of the operating table, bundled up in a thick jacket. She was holding some bandages and she looked at him for a brief moment, revealing a tiny, welcome smile on her tense face. They were well. They were both well, like Tony had assured him The roar inside his head faded a little, even if the Hulk was still on the alert, still too awake and ready to react to the threat of an old enemy.

Bruce shifted his gaze towards the motionless body that was lying on the operating table. A towel and several bandages covered most of the skin, but still he managed to catch a few glimpses of a foreign blue shade that was impossible to associate to any beings he had seen until that moment. He took a couple of steps forward, realizing that the terrible cold was coming from that body, and only then Tony turned to meet his eyes, a hint of relief among the anxiety that was devouring his face.

“Welcome, my favorite colleague. Ready to play alien Operation?”

Now that he was close enough to study him properly, Bruce recognized some familiar details in that unconscious stranger: the long black hair, now a tangled, dirty mess; the shape of his face, even beneath that blue and those strange marks that seemed like a drawing on his skin; his nose and mouth, the slender but tall build. He was identical to their old enemy, the only different thing was the color of his skin.

“So that would be...?”

Tony nodded.

“Loki.”

Another roar pierced through Bruce's mind, together with a red hot spurt of rage that interrupted his breath. The enemy that had annihilated the Hulk was in front of his eyes, helpless and vulnerable, and his alter ego struggled to get free, to destroy the threat that had made him feel powerless, to smash it in a hundred pieces and free himself from its memory. He closed his eyes shut, breathed deeply and counted to ten, reinforcing his defense, fighting to keep the Hulk safely trapped in his subconscious. To free him in the lab would mean tragic consequences, and not only for Loki.

He needed a dozen seconds to regain his control and, when he opened his eyes again, he realized he was shivering.

“I'll go take some heavy clothes for you to wear,” a voice from his side said.

Bruce turned to look at Pepper and nodded without talking, since he was sure that if only he opened his mouth his teeth would chatter.

“I hope you won't mind if I take some of Tony's clothes,” she said, walking towards the elevator.

He attempted a smile.

“As things are now, I would gladly accept even something from the basket of dirty laundry. But you can go to my floor, if you want to.”

Dressed only in his pajama and a pair of slippers without even the socks, he was finding the cold really unbearable. It was like being outside during a snowstorm, or in a freezer. After Pepper disappeared in the elevator, he tried to focus back on the unconscious alien. That someone could become a source of such coldness was unbelievable, it was a phenomenon capable of altering physics laws like magic did. Maybe it was a sort of safety measure: a spell which would keep the enemy far from him until Loki was so vulnerable. And yet, it was strange that it came with such a change in his appearance.

One hand was placed on his shivering shoulder and Bruce lifted his gaze to meet Tony's own.

“Is everything okay? My green friend is under control again?”

“Sort of.” He glanced towards Loki, noticing the wounds standing out from the naked skin that wasn't bandaged. His left shoulder seemed dislocated and his right leg was clearly broken, maybe in more than one place. His sunken face had a pained expression, in the proof that pain was reaching him even while he was unconscious. And then there was his breathing, a broken, hissing sound that made Bruce think of lungs damage. If Loki appeared already so wounded, he almost feared what he would find under the towel and the bandages. He adjusted his glasses and returned to face Tony. “Well, then. Why don't you tell me what happened?”

“What happened?” Tony lifted the hand from his shoulder and went to grab the towel resting on the god's chest, but stopped in midair. He checked the IV again, touched a bandage which was already fine and returned to his side, his body taut and full of suppressed energy in a so evident way that the lab was filled by suffocating tension. “I found him in my bedroom while Pepper and I were ready for the dessert. He must have teleported there, but he was so hurt that compared to that he seemed in top shape after the Jolly Green had used him as a club.”

Tony and Pepper eating the dessert. Maybe in his room. Bruce felt a bittersweet pang at his chest, even through all that cold.

“Did you see him arriving?” he couldn't avoid asking.

“No, Jarvis warned me.”

Bruce didn't have the time to analyze that little hint of egotistical relief that reached him with those words, because the elevator opened, letting Pepper in the room. She had her hands full of clothes: sweaters, a jacket, even socks and some tracksuit pants that could be worn on the pajama. She was carrying his gloves and scarf too.

Bruce reached her immediately, relieved to step back from the cold.

“Thank you,” he said, while he took a sweater.

“You're welcome. I had to search around a little to find everything.”

“It's not a problem.”

He wore the second sweater too, then the socks and the tracksuit pants, and finally the scarf. Little by little, the shivering subsided. He took the gloves and put them inside his pocket, since he would probably need his hands free to take care of Loki.

He took a deep breathe, before truly looking at Pepper. She was terribly pale, with tired eyes. Even with all the layers of clothes she had on and the tension contaminating her gaze, she was beautiful, more beautiful than he could ever be able to accept without feeling a pang at his chest.

“Are you okay?”

She let out a tiny smile.

“I'm starting to regret the time when putting my hand inside of Tony's chest was the most dangerous medical experience I had.”

He found himself smiling back to her, for a fleeting moment, before returning serious.

“You should rest. Why don't you go to sleep? I can take care of it from here.”

“If you two have finished confabulating, there's a dying god here,” Tony burst out.

He was still besides the operating table and Bruce rushed at his side. The mere idea of being so close to an enemy, even if unconscious, to  _touch_ him, gave him goosebumps. He had the unpleasant feeling that the other guy was ready to resurface at his first moment of weakness. However, even more than that, it was Tony's anxiety to worry him. Another hint that added up to the strange behavior his friend had when Loki was concerned. At the edge of his sight he caught a glimpse of Pepper; instead of leaving, the woman had sat down, keeping her distance without going away, and somehow her presence helped him to remain calm.

“I guess you've already asked Jarvis to perform a scan,” he commented. He reached for the alien's wrist just below the bandages. He gingerly brushed his skin with hesitant fingers, almost expecting Loki to abruptly sat up and mock him, or attack him, or open his eyes. There was no reactions, instead. He deepened his touch, allowing himself to analyze that foreign perception with a purely scientific interest. The alien's skin was freezing. Smooth, dry and with the same consistence of human skin, or Thor's skin, but it was colder than snow. “What kind of wounds does he have?”

He wasn't ready to trust the god yet, since coming from a magic user, that could just be a very convincing act; however, he couldn't find any reasons Loki would pretend to be so hurt in the middle of the Avengers headquarter.

“All kind of wounds? Broken bones, cracked ribs, someone had fun using him as a pincushion, plus he has a completely burnt chest,” Tony listed, his voice carrying a different emotion than irony. “I did what you told me. A wet towel on his burn and an IV to hydrate him, but it seems the cold made everything more difficult.”

Bruce tried to move the towel, in vain. It had become a rigid surface and was stuck to Loki's body.

“I see.” He looked around, noticing the thermal lamp that Tony had prepared next to the medical supplies. “We need a source of warmth.”

“I fear we might hurt him more, with that.”

“If we don't warm the towel up, we're going to rip his skin while taking it off.”

Tony grabbed the lamp, staring at it with a torn expression, before turning it on.

“I don't think there's much skin left to rip,” he murmured. His eyes stood out from his face like two abysses where anguish had devoured any other emotions, but he lifted the lamp and directed it towards Loki's chest anyway. “Jarvis, warn us at the first signal that something's wrong.”

“Of course.”

Minutes that seemed to last like hours passed in utterly uncomfortable silence, because even when the both of them were busy working in the lab, it was rare for Tony no to talk. If by chance he wasn't talking, there was the music to lighten the atmosphere. Now the silence was so deep that Bruce could hear his own breathing.

In the end, the towel softened and his attempt to lift it from the alien's chest started having a little success. He proceeded one inch at the time, careful not to wound Loki more, focusing on his task as a doctor like he were with just a random patient and not with the enemy that had almost killed his teammates.

As soon as he managed to take off the towel without tearing the skin or the flesh underneath, his breath stopped abruptly, leaving him speechless, and the towel fell to the floor. Now, with his eyes focused on what was left of Loki's chest, he understood Tony's comment.

He studied that horrifying burn incapable of averting his gaze. During his years on the run, when he had taken care of the sicks and the wounded asking only for food or shelter in return, he had seen some terrible things. For a moment he felt like he was on the other side of the globe again, when he had found himself facing the victims of a napalm attack in a war zone. Men, women and children consumed by flames, with wounds similar to Loki's. None of them had been alive when he had examined them, though.

He stretched his hand towards the alien's neck, looking for a pulse. Despite having seen him stand up without serious damages after he had been hit by Mjolnir, thunders and explosions, he still couldn't truly believe that he hadn't died after suffering such wounds. And yet, he could still hear that hissing sound that had been in the background during his brief exam, like nails on a blackboard, now that he knew what caused it. Under his cold, almost numb fingers, he felt a pulse. If he payed enough attention, he could even see Loki's burnt chest slightly moving while he breathed.

“Not a good sight, I now.” After placing the thermal lamp on the first available surface, Tony returned to his side. “So, what do you say? I'm sure he's still breathing. Or at least he was before you arrived, and Jarvis said he was stable.”

Despite his light tone, the hand Tony had placed on the operating table was grabbing its edge so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“I've never faced something like that. I don't even know where to start,” Bruce replied with a tight voice.

His friend's eyes made his chest ache, because they were exhausted and yet contained a deep trust.

“You surely know more than me.”

Tony trusted him. It didn't matter if he was asking him for a miracle in favor of an enemy, because in his face there was the same desperate determination Tony would show if there had been one of them, one of their teammates, on that table. Bruce swallowed, then nodded, suppressing the Other Guy and his doubts in the darkest corner of his mind.

“I don't make promises, but I'll see what I can do.” He pointed towards the burn. “I guess that's the reason he's not healing himself.”

Tony nodded.

“Even when he returned after the fight against you he couldn't heal himself because he was in a bad shape.” His voice broke. “Not as bad as now, though.”

Bruce went to check the burnt part of the alien's body. Whatever had wounded him had reached even his bones. By now, he was almost sure that it wasn't a farce. Almost, because that was Loki, after all, but he couldn't think of any kind of advantage the alien could gain by faking those wounds.

No, unless it was some kind of twisted plan, everything was real. Somehow, the alien overlord they were getting ready to face had discovered Loki spying on him and had reacted with frightening brutality.

And if he had managed to torture like that a god, the crazy enemy that had almost killed his entire team...

A very human shiver ran through the spine of the man that carried the Hulk inside himself.

 


	18. Chapter 17: A crack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After having survived the comicon of the last weekend, with a lot of friends, a lot of walks, a tons of food and too little sleep, here it is the new, unbetaed chapter. I tried to correct it, but I can't assure anything. Thank you so much for your support, I'm glad you're still following my story!

**Chapter 17: A crack**

 

He couldn't think about Thanos. He couldn't think about the possibility of Loki having a secret agenda – and of course he did have one, maybe even a dozen of them, but he hoped they wouldn't concern the fight they were getting ready for. He couldn't think of how Tony's worry seemed something a lot deeper than standard human compassion for someone who had been brutally tortured. He couldn't think of any of that, or he would get stuck inside his head instead of helping. He just had to take care of their former enemy like he was one of his patients, and postpone every question and every suspicion to a calmer time, when there wouldn't be an emergency which required his medical knowledge.

For the next, way too long minutes, he discussed with Jarvis about the god's vital signs, he tried to keep him hydrated and he injected him with a strong dose of painkiller, since not even Loki deserved to suffer like that. He did the best he could to put his right leg into place – it was broken in four different places, he realized, and it seemed like some part of the bones had been shattered beyond repair, or at least that would be for a human who didn't possess regenerative abilities. He checked the bandages, discovering other wounds that showed all too clearly that Loki had been tortured for days, and tightened the ones which had been too loose. All while Tony was staring at him, following his every action, just a step away.

When he allowed himself a moment to rest, straightening his back to sooth his aching muscles, Jarvis told him that Loki's condition had improved slightly. Maybe because of that, or maybe because he was getting used to the cold, the temperature seemed less unbearable, now, but the god was still unconscious and the hissing sound of his breathing seemed like it was about to stop any minutes.

He stretched with a sigh, sparing a glance towards Pepper, who was still sitting next to the elevator and hadn't spoken a word since she had brought him his clothes. Then, he turned to face Tony.

“I did what I could. But I think it would be better if you called Thor.”

His friend's face hardened.

“No.”

“Why not? I know nothing about alien physiology and he would surely help me with some useful information.”

Tony snorted.

“I really doubt that Thor knows about his physiology either. In case you didn't notice his blue-smurf tan, Loki doesn't belong to his race.”

Bruce remained silent for a moment, trying to analyze that new information.

“So that would be his true appearance?”

“I guess.” At his questioning glance, Tony shrugged. “It's the first time I see him like that too, but I know he's not of the same race of Thor. I saw his hand turning blue, when you and the others kicked his ass. Just the hand, though, and for a couple of seconds most.”

Bruce looked at the alien's hands out of instinct, then he frowned. He had been too busy taking care of his wounds to notice that Loki had his right hand closed in a tight fist, but now that he was paying more attention to it, it seemed like the god was squeezing something.

“What's in his hand?”

Tony moved closer in a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“His right hand. It seems he's holding something. Didn't you notice?”

“I didn't have the time to check his manicure, I was too busy doing other trivial things, you know? Like taking off the cursed chains from around his wrists, trying to keep him alive and avoid my own death by hypothermia.”

Bruce didn't acknowledge his harsh voice, just nodded, and went to take the god's wrist into his hands and try to pry open his fingers. After some struggle, his stubbornness was rewarded: on Loki's palm, pressed deeply into his skin, there was a blue orb that seemed to radiate a feeble light.

Next to him, a breathing stopped in a surprised sound. He lifted his head, meeting Tony's eyes.

“You know what it is?”

“It must be a Tesseract shard. The part Loki didn't put into his scepter”. Tony's surprise was replaced by understanding and he continued, like he was talking to himself. “That's how he did it.”

Bruce tensed as soon as he realized what the alien was holding and almost didn't listen to his last words.

_The scepter, that overwhelming power, the Other Guy roaring in pain, as helpless as he had never been. Destroy, he needed to destroy, destroy every tiniest fragment of that power that had hurt him._

He went to take the orb from the god's palm, but a hand grabbed his wrist.

“Stop!”

Bruce lifted his surprised eyes to meet Tony's.

“If it really is a Tesseract piece, as you say, leaving it with Loki would be dangerous.” It was because of that orb that Loki had almost killed them all, that he had manged to annihilate even the Hulk. The roar that echoed in his mind was enveloped by a red fog and he had to close his fingers into fists to keep his control. “Let me go,” he warned Tony, in a growl.

His clothes were too tight, they were suffocating him, now.

“No way.”

“Tony.” The Hulk was becoming more and more oppressive, Bruce could feel it spreading inside his head, between his thoughts, making his breath heavy and scorching hot, and instead of helping him, Tony still had one hand on his wrist, fingers like pincers and eyes hardened in a resolute stare, despite the exhaustion on his face. “We must take it from him,” he growled again, his voice even deeper than before.

He wasn't feeling cold anymore, only hot fog enveloping his thoughts.

The hand on his arm strengthened his grip.

“No.”

There was the first ripping sound, when the buttons on the pajama he was wearing under the sweaters came off.

“What's happening?”

Bruce startled and the Hulk pulled back from his consciousness, bringing his hatred towards Loki with him. He turned to face Pepper, who had just come closer, and at the same moment Tony let his arm go. They had both forgotten she was there.

“Just a little medical disagreement, nothing to worry about,” Tony replied.

Pepper's eyes were anxious and even too sharp while she looked at them.

“Nothing to worry about?”

Bruce lowered his gaze, a cold grip on his chest. He had been on the verge of losing control of the Hulk. In Tony and Pepper's presence, the people he cared the most in the entire world. He felt sick.

“Sorry, the stress isn't good for the Other Guy,” he murmured in a barely audible voice.

He was about to leave and return to the reassuring solitude of his floor, when Tony stopped him, placing one hand on his shoulder.

“We are all stressed out,” his friend said, with an apologetic smile on his face.

Bruce took a deep breath before lifting his head again. He met the eyes of his best friend, of the man who had grabbed his wrist with more strength than it was needed and who now had a guilty expression on his tired face. Tony wasn't supposed to feel like that, even if he had been behaving in a strange way, recently. Bruce tried to smile back, making sure that his alter ego was safely trapped inside himself.

“We are.” The cold grip on his chest loosened up a little. “Why did you stop me?” he said, after a moment. “You too know we can't let Loki have it.”

“Have what?” Pepper asked.

For a moment, Tony seemed like he would reply with a snarky answer, but then he sighed.

“A piece of the Tesseract. Part of the shard Loki took from the Nazi son of a bitch that was keeping me prisoner. Bruce discovered he had it in his hand.” Tony turned to face him. “Taking it from him might result in his death.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Loki can't use his powers, since he's half dead, and that orb is a source of magic; it could be the only reason he's still alive.”

Pepper placed one hand on Tony's arm, trying to meet his gaze.

“Bruce is right. It's dangerous, we must take it from him.”

Tony hardened his face, shifting in an almost imperceptible way, so that now he stood between the unconscious god and them.

“I won't risk to let him die after all the efforts we have put in saving his life.”

Bruce saw Pepper frowning and opening her mouth to protest, and decided to intervene before she could talk.

“Okay. For now, Loki can keep it. But, as soon as he's better, we're going to take that orb away. And, Jarvis?”

“Yes, Doctor Banner?”

“Could you please monitor the Tesseract shard's activity and make sure that it's not emitting hostile radiations or that it won't be used as a weapon?”

“I'll do my best.”

“Is that okay, for you?” Bruce asked Tony.

“Yeah, it seems the best course of action.”

His friend had slightly relaxed, now. Even Pepper had decided not to talk, despite her lips being pursed in an unhappy line, and that was good, since he didn't know for how long he would have been able to control the Hulk if the two of them had started a fight.

He took off his glasses to rub his tired eyes, wishing for that day to end.

When he returned his attention to the alien god, he noticed that Tony was staring at the blue orb with a pensive gaze.

“Now I understand how he managed to escape.”

“With the Tesseract?”

Tony nodded.

“He wasn't able to use his powers, when he arrived in my room. He had some chains with strange incisions, and so on. When he briefly regained his senses, he told me to take them off. They probably were what sealed his magic, right, Jarv?”

“Very plausible, Sir.”

Bruce couldn't suppress a shiver at the thought of Loki being conscious while he was in such horrifying condition. Then a detail caught his attention.

“Why did he appear in your bedroom?”

“I don't know, maybe he remembered my generous offer for an alliance and he rightly thought I wouldn't kill him?”

“No, I mean, why the bedroom. Why not the living room or the common area. How come he knew where your bedroom is?”

“Invisibility spell, remember? When he took me away from Schmidt's grasps, I wasn't exactly presentable. Okay, I'm always a joy for the eyes, but let's say that for the common morals I was a bit too naked. Aside from the chains I didn't have much on my body. Loki thought to come here to take some of my clothes, since he's not immune to my many charms and he felt my naked self was too distracting for him.”

Bruce felt his chest becoming a piece of ice.

He knew Tony had been tortured by that Nazi, but now he could picture him in a too vivid way – naked and in chain, humiliated, hurt – and he had to refrain from grimacing and closing his fingers into fists. Only when he managed to push that painful thought away, he was hit by a suspicion. Maybe his friend hadn't told him the truth, not completely. There had been a fleeting emotion in his eyes while Tony was speaking, but he hadn't been able to recognize it. And he didn't like it.

“Sir, you asked me to warn you if there was a change in Loki's vital signs,” Jarvis said, interrupting his thoughts.

Tony became abruptly agitated, his right hand already stretching towards the alien god's throat and his expression full of anguish.

“What's going on?”

“There's been a little but continuous improvement in his vital signs.”

“For real?”

“Yes. His body has started regenerating itself and his inner temperature is rising.”

The relief on his friend's face was so vivid Bruce tensed. He shifted his gaze from him to Loki, without talking, before looking at Pepper. Given the painful turmoil written on her face, she too had been picturing Tony's days in captivity; and yet, his friend hadn't even noticed it. He hadn't given her any attention at all, he was just focused on the god.

“It seems a good news, isn't it, Jarv? Do you think his life is still in danger?”

“I fear it still is, but if his regeneration continues at this rate, one of his lungs should return to a full functionality in three hours and sixteen minutes.”

Three hours and sixteen minutes to heal a burnt lung. Even as used as he was to Thor's or Steve's powers, or even to the Other Guy's healing factor, Bruce couldn't suppress his surprise. On another situation, he would grab the first microscope available to study such phenomenon from a close proximity, but now there were other, more unpleasant priorities.

“Is he stable enough to be moved?” he asked Jarvis.

“I can say that moving him now would be less risky than when Mister Stark moved him from his bedroom to the lab.”

The glance Tony sent him gave him the impression he wouldn't easily agree on his suggestion.

“Why do you want to move him?”

“Now there's no need for all this equipment. It would be better if we moved him to a more comfortable place, with a proper bed.”

 _And far away from the inventions and the technology that would mean catastrophic consequences in the wrong hands_ , but he didn't say that out loud. His friend looked at the unconscious god and then nodded.

“It sounds like a good idea,” Pepper intervened. Bruce only needed to look at her for a moment to realize she was having his same thought. “We could carry him to one of the empty floors.”

“Yeah, we'll see,” Tony replied, but given his distracted voice it was clear he wasn't truly listening to her.

Bruce grimaced, trying in vain to ignore the feeling that something was wrong. He had been feeling that way since he had come to the lab. No, even before that, when he had noticed his friend's strange behavior, during the past few days. Tony hadn't given Pepper any attention, after Loki had disappeared.  _Pepper_ , his point of reference, the most important person in his life. And everything seemed to lead to their former enemy.

No, Bruce didn't like that situation. He didn't like it at all.

 


	19. Chapter 18: Soft shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm so sorry for the delay with the updating. Truth is I barely have some free time and between real life and writing this story I almost have no time to translate it. Of course I still want to continue the translation, though, and your enthusiasm and support is what really keeps me going, so thank you so much for your feedbacks, you're the best!
> 
> As the previous ones, this is an unbetaed chapter, I hope it will be readable enough, despite my mistakes (I know they are there). As a small surprise(?), a great fanartist friend of mine, AnyaCronos, drew a scene from this chapter. You can find her fanart here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10600263  
> I think it's lovely, isn't it?
> 
> Anyway, if you're still here after all these days of wait, thank you for your patience. Enjoy your reading and happy Easter to those of you who celebrate it!

**Chapter 18: Soft shadows**

 

The silence was so deep he felt it seeping through his bones. It was more intense than the cold he had gotten used to, by now. The only light in the bedroom came from the little lamp on the bedside table and the sky outside still wasn't showing any glimpses of the dawn. Every detail in the semi-darkness surrounding him recalled the soft solitude of the darkest hours of the night, when his only company was represented by his own thoughts, or, if he had been lucky enough to fall asleep, by some confused dreams.

Tony was exhausted.

Sitting on the bed, with his head bowed and his arms resting on his thighs, even breathing felt like a too difficult task. The pleasant dinner that had been cooked by that arrogant Italian chef was just a distant memory, by now, as was the relief of having filled the gap that had separated him from Pepper. Now he just had to wait, in what was both strain and truce.

A hiss broke the silence. It still sounded too painful for him not to tense, but the broken noises coming from Loki were now more similar to actual breaths than to dying wheezes, and Tony had noticed that their frequency had increased. He focused on his face before he could stopped himself, meeting tense features and closed eyes, with no changes whatsoever from a few minutes before.

In the end, he had listened to Bruce and agreed on moving the god towards a room with a proper bed, but he had refused both his friend's and Pepper's help. Instead he had used his suit to lift Loki's damaged body and to bring him one careful step after another to the elevator. He had chosen the closest floor to the one he lived in, and only because he hadn't been able to come up with a satisfying explanation that would justify him bringing the god to his own bedroom.

He passed one hand through his messy hair, making the hood fall back, now that the cold wasn't as unbearable as it had been in the beginning.

He knew Pepper and Bruce suspected something, especially the latter. He had caught his glances, the doubt inside his eyes and that frowning Bruce showed when one of his experiments didn't give him the expected results. He should have been more rational and detached, without revealing the anxiety devouring his chest, but, damn, Loki was fucking _dying_ , he had appeared in his room with his chest totally burnt and every inch of his body marked by torture after whole days of being away...

He hadn't woken up, yet.

“They really did a number on you, didn't they, Reindeer Games?” he murmured, while placing his hand on the blanket, next to the god's one.

Luckily for him, his two friends had allowed him to be alone with the god. Sooner or later, he already knew it, he would have to explain the situation, to give them some kind of justification for his behavior, or to try to put into words something he didn't even understand himself. It wasn't love, because people like him didn't fall in love, not with someone different from Pepper. But it wasn't just attraction or gratitude either.

He shifted his hand closer to the god, brushing his icy cold knuckles. Loki's skin was smooth and dry, despite the coldness, and he started exploring it, reaching his wrist. He skipped the bandages to touch his arm, following with a surprised curiosity the strange lines that seemed carved in the god's body, until he reached his shoulder and then his chin.

When he arrived to the cheek, his lips curved in a small smile. If Loki had been awake, he would probably have ripped off his hand, by now. Or maybe he would have mocked him with that grin that gave Tony the dual urge to punch him and to kiss him until he stole his breath away. Now, though, no one would be able to notice his actions, not even the god. He continued exploring his face, caressing his cheeks and lips and nose, in a way he had never been able to do, not even during sex, when there wasn't that astonishing blue covering his skin. Loki was beautiful like that too, though. Beautiful and foreign, like an appearance coming from an illustrated book about some kind of night spirits. The strange drawings Tony had already noticed on his arm reached his cheeks and forehead too, elegant lines he traced one by one with his fingers, careful to barely touch them, showing the same reverence an artist would save for the best of his paintings. To him, nothing had ever seemed so far away from the idea of a monster.

Only when his fingers really started to burn from the cold, Tony pulled his hand back. But he wanted to do more, he wanted to touch him in that shape while Loki was awake, to kiss that skin as cold as the snow and to discover how it would taste, he wanted to see his eyes – there had been a couple of bloody red flashes, when he had found the god in Central Park, and that memory gave him a sudden warm sensation in a totally inappropriate part of his body.

He rubbed his fingers together to shake off the numbness, then he pressed two of them on Loki's wrist to check his pulse. It was there, still faint, but a little more regular than before. Finally he placed his hand back on the blanket, close enough to Loki's own to almost touch him.

“Jarvis, what about his vitals?” he asked, for what had to be the fourth time since he had been left alone in that room by his friends.

“Nothing has changed, his vitals are still slowly improving.”

Tony nodded and say nothing more. He turned his head to stare at the unconscious god and, with the silence becoming deeper second after second, he started counting the minutes.

 

 

 

He didn't really know where he was. Every perception reaching his senses was so muffled that seemed like it came from far away: the awareness he existed, the dizziness, even that agonizing pain – the Infinity Gauntlet was consuming him, its power was engulfing him without any mercy, and that was the worst pain he had ever experienced in his life.

Now, however, that pain had lessened. He struggled to sew the fragments of thought crossing his mind together again, trying to understand the situation he was in. He had already experienced the horrifying sensation of his body shutting off moment after moment, so he knew he wasn't dying. Not anymore, at least.

And there were that confusing flashes of memories playing without any order inside his mind. The Chitauri, his escaping, Thanos.

He remembered the laughter.

He remembered the pain.

He remembered the chains.

He'd had chains around his wrists even that distant day. When he'd had to hide his triumph behind the shame of a fake defeat and he had found himself in the deepest dungeon of that palace that had been his home before the void, before the monster, before all his illusion died.

“ _Loki, my son.”_

_Odin had come to visit him before the trial and his words had burnt him like the void hadn't been able to do._

“ _Your son, All-Father? No, I am Loki With-no-fathers, Loki No-one-son. You made that clear enough to me, before I got swallowed by the abyss.”_

_Odin had sighed, a sound so wrong coming from the mouth of the greatest king of Asgard. For a moment, he hadn't looked like the almighty All-Father, but just like a tired old man._

“ _I may have lied to you on your origins, but I have never lied to you when I told you that I came to think of you as my son and to love you as such.”_

_Loki had smiled at him, another lie to cover what had never stopped bleeding inside his chest._

“ _Is it because of that, that you trapped me here, then? Did you come to me to show me your fatherly love? Because if that is the case, I would rather have some new books than your presence.”_

_He'd had the satisfaction of a flinch, before the All-Father hardened his gaze._

“ _Why did you act in such disgraceful way, on Midgard?”_

“ _I only acted in the way you taught me.”_

“ _I have never taught you to bring death and destruction!”_

“ _You taught me more than that. You taught me that I am a monster. So, tell me, why shall I behave differently?”_

_Odin had left bringing his smile away, with steady steps but bent shoulders, and the solitude had closed upon him like a cage._

He had tried.

He had really tried, for him, for everyone of them and for himself. And in the end, what he had gained had only been a rejection.

A spasm ran through his body, pulling him closer to the awakening.

He didn't want to relieve those moments, not when it was already too difficult trying to overcome the images of the Gauntlet, the fire on his skin, that energy devouring his body and leaving only agony and the desperation of being alive.

“ _But you don't want to be a monster.”_

Stark had told him those unforgivable words without a doubt and they still hadn't stopped burning him from inside. His mortal, the only face that was now standing out as a source of reassurance and comfort from his dazed thoughts. It was the last thing he had seen before his mind had drifted away again, now he remembered it.

_ Stark, a safe place. _

The urge to wake up start clawing at his mind.

He tried to move, taking a breath that was like a fire of pain and rage, but his body wasn't responding, it was sliding away, where he couldn't reach it; only agony was left, as the only ever present thing among his perceptions. And yet, the pain wasn't as violent or as unbearable as he had learned to fear it.

He wasn't in the dungeon where Odin had trapped him anymore. And he wasn't in Thanos' dark reign either.

He felt a soft surface under his back, what seemed like a cushion under his head and there was something against his fingers. Something warm, but too light to be perceived as a threat. There was someone next to him.

He struggled to open his eyes and rip through the darkness that was surrounding him. His breath was stolen away by the pain, but it wasn't that unforgiving agony that had devoured his nerves during that eternity spent in the darkness. He moved his hand towards the source of that warmth, something foreign that was almost too hot, and when his fingers found it, they grabbed it tightly a moment before he managed to open his eyes.

The wrist he had grasped didn't move, it was a solid, tangible perception grounding him in that reality.

He was alive,  _still alive_ , and the pain wasn't so intense he couldn't think.

The person sitting at his side lost that blurred shape and became a man he knew very well.

“Stark,” he wheezed, in a painful hiss that scraped his throat.

The mortal smiled, showing such an intense relief that almost hurt.

“Welcome back, Rock of Ages.”

 


	20. Chapter 19: Mortality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, I didn't expect so many comments and it truly was a wonderful surprise! I tried my best to update soon, but... well, between Easter and busy days with relatives and some work I wasn't able to update until now. As always, it's an unbetaed chapter, but I hope you'll like it anyway. Loved your comments, thank you again!

**Chapter 19: Mortality**

 

_It came from inside his very soul, from the most hidden part of his being, the urge to stand and fight with teeth and claws, to hurt everyone and everything to alleviate himself from the pain that was engulfing him, to kill before being killed, in the purest form of defense. But he could not, not with his body so pitifully weak, not with Stark's face in front of his eyes like his last hope to retain his sanity._

He blinked, and that violent, desperate urge disappeared behind a glimpse of cold rationality, overwhelmed by the need to understand his situation and its every detail before deciding how to act.

He was in a warmer place than the cell, the air was almost scorching hot against his skin. The silence was so deep he could hear every breath Stark took and there was a lamp, too feeble to hurt his eyes, as the only source of light that left no room for the monsters that had tortured him in the darkness.

It wasn't the mortal's bedroom.

It didn't have its smell and its appearance, and even the bed he was lying on felt different to his dizzy mind. He half closed his eyes, looking for something familiar that would give him some sort of reassurance, but the only element of the room he was able to put into focus was Stark, with his mouth curved into the hint of a grin, tired eyes that didn't left his gaze and the marks of deep tension on his face.

“Where am I?”

To talk, even with that rough, barely audible whisper, hurt his chest. He would have tried to see how it was, if only the mere thought of moving hadn't seemed so difficult.

“In my tower, in one of the empty floors,” the mortal replied.

Loki felt what was left of his muscles tense, damaged fibers trying to work, and every nerve of his body was engulfed by flames. He muffled a whimper, fighting to remain vigilant and to not surrender to unconsciousness following the temptation of giving his broken body a few more minutes of peace.

If he was in the mortal's tower, not in his bedroom but in a foreign room, there had to be the other Avengers too, and yet, with his senses dulled because of the pain and the exhaustion, he wasn't able to perceive their presence.

Stark must have guessed his thoughts, though, because he placed one scorching hot hand onto his knuckles and leaned into him, widening his smile until it resembled his usual, ironical grin.

“Don't worry. Capsicle went to bed after the evening cartoons, your loud not-brother is by his unexpectedly genial girlfriend and the assassin duo is on a mission very far away from here.”

Loki took another breath, air mixed with pain and blood, whose taste had been lingering inside his mouth from the last session of torture.

“And the beast?”

A fleeting emotion crossed the mortal's eyes, too fast for him to recognize it, but again on his face there was an almost painful desire to reassure him.

“ _Bruce_ ,” Stark replied, emphasizing the name, “is in another room. Here there are only the two of us.”

But it hadn't always been that way, since his teleport spell had brought him there. A blurred image crossed his mind: someone standing behind the mortal, long hair, feminine features, body full of tension, a face he hadn't truly put into focus. And Stark had said her name, while he was talking with conceited voice, trying to keep him awake.

“The woman?” he murmured.

“Pepper? She's with us.” The mortal made a sound that was half a huff and half a sigh “I guess I'll owe her some explanations, sooner or later, but she's on our side.”

 _Our_. Stark had said 'our', like he truly was his ally. Not the Avengers', not the woman's ally. His ally alone. He focused on his eyes, looking for the flicker of a doubt, for a hidden lie, finding only relief and exhaustion instead, the same stare with which Stark had welcome his awakening.

He didn't understand.

The mortal's hand was still covering his, and Loki couldn't find a reason to refuse that touch. Not when unconsciousness was still threatening his mind and that touch was grounding him.

“So, Darth Vader, toasted body and little case of hoarseness aside, how are you feeling?” Stark's light tone let through a note of uneasiness. “You're not dying anymore, are you?”

If his lungs had been whole, Loki would have burst into laughter. They were all dying, all the Midgardians, all the living beings of the Nine Realms, of Asgard, even, because when Thanos arrived to the place where he had grown up to demand his tribute of death and destruction, no one would have been able to stand against him, not even the All-Father. Thanos possessed the Infinity Gauntlet, and that meant the end of all hope for the most part of the universe.

And yet...

_His own essence was in the Gauntlet, a shard of power soaked in his magic that had called him even after it had been stolen by that mad Titan. A glimmer of hope in a never ending darkness._

“Rock of Ages...?”

Stark's voice shook him from his thoughts, together with the disappearance of his hand. He grimaced against his own weakness, when the lack of that almost too warm touch hit him in an unpleasant way.

“I do not die so easily.”

Stak chuckled, in a low, contained way that didn't suit him, especially knowing how loud he had always been, aside from that brief, annoying period of muteness.

“Looks like His Majesty feels better and is turning back to that former, annoying little shit he had always been.”

Loki made a half-hearted attempt to glare at him. He was supposed to punish him, and maybe the mortal knew that now he didn't have the strength to do it, so he had taken advantage of a temporarily impunity to said such disrespectful words; and yet, that offensive comment hadn't been spitted out with a voice full of mock or contempt. Stark simply seemed happy.

Someone who was happy because he hadn't died – someone different from Frigga. That was new. He hinted a smile too, even if he wasn't able to make it as sharp as he had wanted.

“That is supposed to worry you, not to give you relief.”

“What can I say, you know I'm a sucker for the psychopaths with god complex that wear leather pants better than any male or female models.” The amusing glimpse inside Stark's eyes disappeared, replaced by a more serious gaze. “You really made me worry that your indestructibility was over.”

There wasn't any irony in the mortal's words, any light note that would manage to hide his emotions, and Loki reacted with a deeper grimace.

“I am no mortal.”

“But you can die.”

For the first time, he found difficult to meet Stark's gaze. He focused his eyes on the wall behind the mortal.

“I can. As can everyone.”

It was true. He had never been so close to die, not even after his fall into the void, when he had met Thanos for the first time. But he had survived, despite everything. He had experienced a taste of the Gauntlet's destructive power, and yet he was still alive.

Just in that moment did he realize there was nothing to restrain his magic, no cage mutilating him, forcing him to face the pain and the wounds while being helpless. Stark must have managed to free him from the enchanted chains, like he had asked him with his last glimpse of rationality, and now he could feel his magic already mending him from inside, slowly rebuilding his body inch after inch, guided by his own survival instinct.

He could feel his burnt flesh and the bones that the energy had consumed being regenerated, in a slow but steady healing whose first, most painful steps he had thankfully missed. Now he understood why the pain wasn't as fierce as the beginning anymore.

And there was a source of warmth in his hand, reminding him how his escape had been possible.

He didn't turn his eyes towards it, fearing Stark would notice it and understand what he was hiding in his hand, but he could feel it, a smooth, warm orb full of energy, carrying a small part of the Tesseract power. His hand twitched and he tensed his fingers around the orb, like he wanted to make sure it was still there, safe and his forever, but the mortal must have caught his brief movement, because, for a moment, his eyes shifted towards his hand.

“About your little supply of magic, you can relax. I'm not taking it away from you.”

_Stark knew._

He couldn't hide his surprise, he felt it contaminating his features and then awakening an unexpected emotion inside his chest, beneath the layers of the burnt flesh and collapsed lungs and pure pain.  _He knew and he hadn't even tried to steal it from him._

It was... comforting, somehow. Not the frustrating knowledge of being helpless in front of another being, or the fact that he wouldn't be able to move a finger even if he needed to defend himself. But the way the mortal was looking at him and was taking care of him, the marks of tension and exhaustion on his face, that too warm hand brushing against his own. The fact he had reassured him about letting him keep his shard, which was now almost the only weapon he possessed, after he had lost his scepter. It seemed like the mortal didn't want anything in return and that was a behavior he wasn't able to understand. Stark was offering his help with the same casualness with which he had offered him his body during that faraway night; like it wasn't a negotiation to gain some advantages, but only something he wanted to do.

He hadn't even asked him anything about Thanos, nor had he requested that he accepted that absurd alliance.

“Is there something I could do to speed up your healing? I'm not a doctor, and I'm sure we don't have any medical books about alien gods anyway, but with my genius and your cooperation I'm sure I would be more useful than most part of people out there,” the mortal told him.

Loki gave him the weak version of a snort, strengthening the grip around the orb.

“I only need my magic.”

“If you say so.” Stark's gaze looked uncertain for a moment, while it traveled to his chest before returning to his face. “Something to eat, then? Or to drink?”

Since when he didn't have food or water? Since the moment Thanos captured him. No, even before that, before the last time he had been to the mortal's abode, with his naked body under him, totally at his mercy.

“Water. And food.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and he didn't need to pretend to be exhausted. “But later.”

“Okay.”

He didn't say anything else while the weight next to him disappeared, together with that almost too intense warmth, and he waited until he heard Stark's steps exiting the room, leaving him surrounded by welcome silence.

He needed to think, and to do that he needed the mortal to be away from him, because Stark's face and behavior confused him, gave him the dangerous feeling he could show a moment of weakness, that he could trust again, after whole years during which he had never trusted anyone anymore. Now he could finally put order in his mind without any distractions, but the comfortable bed, the warm place he was in and the knowledge of being safe lulled his exhausted body to sleep before he even realized it.

 


	21. Chapter 20: Resurfacing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I know, it's a really short (unbetaed) chapter, but it's been ages since the last update and I wanted to publish something, even if short. So sorry for my long silence, still having to face a hectic life. I don't know if there are still people interested in my story, given my irregular updates, but as a sort of good news I can say that next chapter should be up within the month, maybe even by next weekend. Anyway, thank you so much for your feedbacks. I re-read a lot of your comments during the last few days and they really helped me find the will to translate. So thank you for everything!  
> And now I just hope this short chapter won't be a total disappointment. Enjoy your reading and have a good weekend!

**Chapter 20: Resurfacing**

 

He had woken up.

And that he had been more insufferable than the usual and he had dismissed him in a couple of words without showing even a glimpse of gratitude didn't matter, because Tony hadn't expected anything different from him. The simple fact that Loki hadn't even tried to hide his wounds or yelled at him to disappear was already a positive reaction.

No, the god had truly reacted in a good way, all things considered.

Tony remembered way too vividly how it had been for him, how he had perceived the days soon after his return from Afghanistan. Minutes blending into hours and then days, leaving him with frantic anxiety, lungs full of water and the hole inside his chest that hurt at his every breath. When working on his suit had been the only palliative for what was corroding him from the inside, the part of himself that had lost and that he wasn't sure he would be able to patch it back together in his body; when the alcohol burning his throat seemed to be a lifesaver, the only thing that could turn off his mind when not even sleeping would have granted him some peace.

Judging from his conditions, Loki must have gone through something similar if not worse. When the god had started talking with a weak voice that seemed so wrong coming from him, Tony'd had several questions about Thanos on the tip of his tongues: confirmation of his suspicions, request for information and reassurances; but he had decided against asking him. He wouldn't force Loki to relieve his nightmares while he was still more similar to a corpse than to the regal, self-confident god that had laughed in the Avengers' faces.

“Jarv?” he called softly, after closing the bedroom door.

“Judging from his vital signs, Loki seems to be asleep.”

Tony nodded, sighing in relief.

Careful not to make any noises, he stealthily walked through the hall towards the kitchen, not wanting to reveal his presence. Pepper and Bruce were waiting for him, but at the moment he would have rather faced the psychopathic god, together with his self-consciousness about showing his true appearance, than looking his friends in their eyes and admitting what had been tormenting him during the last few hours. Of course, he could always hide his thoughts behind his smile and his irony, and lie, but he wasn't sure he would be convincing enough, not in front of the two people he cared the most in the entire world – aside maybe from an alien god who had questionable character, but he wasn't ready to face such an uncomfortable thought, not yet.

And speaking of the alien god and his true appearance, Loki hadn't reacted in the same, upset way he'd had when they had been in his living room what seemed like ages before. He hadn't reacted at all. Tony froze midway while taking a step forward, realizing what that meant. He couldn't believe that all Loki's issues about his smurfish skin had been resolved after the torture he had endured by that alien fucker, not after Tony had seen him almost bleeding out to make the blue disappear from his body. So he had yet to realize how he looked now.

When Tony started walking again, he was frowning. It was better that way, because the last thing Loki needed was a tantrum that would put his healing at risk, but sooner or later he would notice. His frown was replace by a look of determination. When Loki noticed, he would be at his side, ready to explain him once and for all how wrong the way Thor's father and his people had raised him had been.

 

 

 

Nothing.

There was nothing.

A reassuring nothingness where the pain was a fleeting sensation enveloped him, granting him the truce that his exhausted body yearned for. There were no more threats, at least not close enough to be dangerous. He could feel soft bandages around his wrists in the place of the hard chains with those cursed runes that had kept him prisoner in a more unbearable way than his freezing cell, and even the coldness had disappeared. Now that he knew he was safe the will that had brought him to Midgard was wavering, allowing him to surrender to a deep slumber.

And yet...

The coldness had disappeared. A strange warmth had taken its place, even the contact with Stark's hand had felt like there had been a blazing fire beneath his mortal skin, like only that thin barrier prevented him to burn himself.

The air seemed the scorching hot wind that he had sometimes experienced in a desert, what little oxygen he managed to breathe with his damaged lungs was hot, still bearable and not really unpleasant, but nothing he was used to find in his mortal's tower or even in that area of Midgard.

His discomfort increased, unsettling him, drawing a web of cracks in the peace of his slumber.

That unnatural heat was wrong and now there were other details nagging away at his consciousness, trying to wake him up from his exhausted sleep. The memory of horrifying coldness spreading through his skin. His struggle to gather every tiniest glimpse of power to make a desperate attempt to teleport away. Stark, who had been wearing some thick clothes and hadn't seemed to notice how warm the bedroom was.

The cracks deepened, then the peaceful nothingness crumbled all around him and he emerged from his sleep with a strangled gasp, while the familiar pain in his chest engulfed him.

He opened his eyes, looking at his hand, where he could feel the Tesseract shard throbbing in power even now. And then he recognized the blue, not the blue of its magic, but the cursed color that unveiled his own origins. It had already contaminated his skin from the fingers to the shoulders to his chest, he felt it on his feet and his face, and it was part of all his body, part of _him_ , like it had been that horrific day when he had discovered the truth and at the same time lost everything – his family, his home, his own identity.

He had become what he hated the most in the universe, the secret kept hidden by the All-Father's spell and his own powers had resurfaced, sharp and unmerciful like only the naked truth could be. He stared at his arms and his bandaged chest without being able to tear his eyes away. It was like he couldn't see anything else, like on his retina, in his mind and inside his burnt chest there was room only for such a hated color that had devoured the illusion covering the worse of the truths. And it had happened while he was in the house of his enemies.

_Stark had seen him like that._

His eyes widened and a broken hiss escaped his lips, while his still healing lungs tried to reach for the air that such realization had stolen away. Then the pain, the dread, the hate, everything became too much and sheer horror engulfed his mind.

 


	22. Chapter 21: Beneath the lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hell to translate. I really hope it's not a disaster or too chaotic, and that the characters aren't OOC. I did my best, but I'm still not satisfied. Please don't hate me or my chapter too much!
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for your comments! It's been very heartwarming to see how many people are still interested in my story despite my irregular updates.
> 
> Also, huge thanks to Litfiva for the fanart of an adorable chibi Tony that's just below! To lighten the mood, since the chapter is not particularly happy, here it is the funny version of how Tony's asking Pepper to keep Loki. The sentences are in Italian, but if you want, these are the translations: "Can we keep him, right?" "Pepper, what do you say?" "You're my favorite CEO" "Come on, Pep" "Have I already told you how perfect you are today?". This fanart always makes me laugh and lifts my mood XD I hope you like it too.

 

 

[ ](http://it.tinypic.com?ref=2csezc1) ****

 

**Chapter 21: Beneath the lies**

 

Pepper hadn't believed that the silence could be so deep and absolute, especially while the thoughts inside her head were piling up and fighting against each other with so much violence she almost felt dizzy. She moved her gaze from the door to Bruce, reading on his face the same mix of exhaustion and worry that was filling her chest and had hardened her features.

Feeling her attempt to catch his attention, Bruce lifted his head and gave her a tentative smile.

“You know he's not in danger with Jarvis controlling the situation and Loki so wounded, right?”

Pepper nodded.

“That's not the problem,” she whispered, with a voice so low even she didn't know whether she wanted to be heard.

Tony had left them to take care of their former enemy with the determination of a soldier who wanted to watch over a fallen comrade, and she still didn't know how to react towards a friend she couldn't recognize anymore.

Something had happened, during the time Tony had been Loki's prisoner. His will to defend him, his reaction to the god's horrific wounds – desperation, helpless rage, a fear she didn't remember she had seen in his eyes, at least not during the last few months – and the way he had looked at the broken body beneath him that wasn't just understandable horror and compassion, but something deeper, like he almost _cared_. And, even more, the worst moment of the night, which made her close her hands into fists even now, before she could stop herself: when Tony had put himself between Loki and Bruce.

No, something was wrong, terribly wrong, and she had just dared to say it.

Judging from his expression, Bruce had heard her words and understood their meaning. He opened his mouth to say something in reply, but before he could utter a word, they heard some cautious steps approaching and they both turned to face the door.

When Tony walked in, with an expression that showed an intense relief, Pepper couldn't refrain from approaching him.

“Are you okay?”

Maybe she was imagining things, but it seemed to her that Tony's expression became more cautious and detached now that he had realized they were there, like he wanted to hide his own thoughts.

“I'm not the wounded one. Instead, why are you two still up? You could have gone to bed and rest for a few hours, I told you that I would manage the situation perfectly well myself.”

“I doubt I would have been able to sleep, after such a night.”

The smile Tony tried to paint on his lips didn't hide his edginess. Pepper would have recognized how fake it was even if she hadn't learned to read his true emotions behind the mask Tony used to hide them.

“At least I'm keeping up my reputation: you can't get bored when you're with me.”

“How's Loki?” a voice intervened, from next to her, and Pepper almost flinched, because Bruce had approached so silently that she hadn't even noticed.

“He's dying less than the usual. He woke up, had enough strength to say his heartfelt thank you, that of course go to you two as well, and then he fell asleep again. Now I was about to make sandwiches and grab something to drink.” As if he only realized it that moment, Tony frowned, focusing his eyes on Bruce. “It's okay if I bring him something to eat, right?”

“If he feels like eating, I'd say there shouldn't be any problems.”

“Great. Then I'm going to make a sandwich or two and bring him a glass of water. You two can go to sleep, you deserve it.” And that said, Tony started walking past them.

Pepper took a deep breath, not listening to the part of her that wanted to accept his suggestion, go to her room and sleep until she could erase all the fear and the distress she'd been feeling that night.

“Not yet. I need to know what you're going to do, first.”

For a moment, Tony's too cheery expression wavered.

“As I said, I'm going to grab some food and then return keeping an eye on Sleeping Beauty. Jarvis will take me company and maybe tomorrow someone will relieve me, or we'll decide what to do.”

Before Pepper could reply, Bruce walked to the table that was in the living room and took a seat.

“Tony, come sitting down here for a moment.”

“What? Like a kid who's going to be scolded?”

Pepper sighed, approaching him.

“Please, Tony.”

A sharp smile appeared on his face.

“Two against one? I didn't think you would be so unfair,” he said, but sat down anyway, keeping his right hand on his stomach, just below the Reactor, and his left arm hanging from the back of the chair.

Pepper sat down next to him, in front of Bruce.

“It's not a fight, Tony. We just want to talk,” she said, trying to keep her voice light and serene.

“Okay, let's talk, then.”

Another deep breath, then Pepper looked at him with the most calm expression she could muster.

“We must decide about Loki. Now that his vitals are stable, I think we should inform Fury.”

Tony tensed abruptly, his left arm frozen in a mid swing and the fingers on his stomach that were about to close into a fist.

“I wouldn't hand over to Fury my worst enemy,” he replied, with a harsh voice he had almost never used with her.

Pepper felt her heart dropping, while a knot appeared in his throat, making it difficult to breathe. She was losing him. As a friend, as a person, and she still couldn't understand why.

“Loki _is_ your worst enemy.”

“No, he's not. I thought I had been clear that we were trying to sign an alliance.” Tony's tone lowered, like he had just noticed how harshly he was talking to her, but his eyes were so dark that reminded Pepper of that night spent in Jarvis' company, with a drunken man sleeping on the couch, the living room smelling of tears and vomit, and a screen showing the horror of dead children. “And Loki surely wasn't the one I wanted dead or in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hands.”

“At least you should tell Steve. And Thor, so that he can come back sooner,” Bruce intervened, his voice being the calmest one in the room, after they started talking.

“No. When Loki will be better, not now that he's totally helpless and that I don't know how he could react.” Tony turned to face Bruce, his eyes narrowing. “What are afraid of? You saw him, he's so hurt he can barely breathe on his own. And now you'd want to tell the world he's here, when it would be more sensible to let things cool down and wait for him to heal, at least a little? What do you think it would happen if Fury came to know he has a dying god on hand? Or if Natasha and Clint did? And to tell to Capsicle it would be the same as putting it online in capslock in every searching engine.”

Pepper held her breath and counted to ten.

“Steve knows how to keep a secret and he has the right to know. At least you should talk to your team, if don't want to talk to Fury.”

Tony sent her an icy glare.

“Since when are you on Capsicle's side? I thought you were on mine.”

That glare hurt, it was like he was looking at an enemy, like he was drifting away more and more, becoming a stranger she wasn't able to understand anymore. Like the time with the palladium poisoning, only that now he wasn't dying and his strange behavior wasn't due to his knowledge of his life ticking away too quickly.

“Don't you dare, Tony. I'm on your side, I've always been.”

His lips curved into a mocking smile.

“Are you? Because if that's the case, you have a strange way to show it, accusing me like that.”

“Please, Tony, calm down. No one is accusing you and no one is going to,” Bruce said. “We're just trying to understand your reasons.”

“Really? Because what I see here is not someone who's willing to understand, but the two people who should be my best friends joining forces against me.” While he was talking, his smile faded out, but his expression was still serious, almost hard, and Pepper started to feel a painful thud inside her chest. “I thought you trusted me, but I guess it's too much to hope that at least you two would be on my side.”

“If we hadn't been on your side, we would have never helped you tonight and wouldn't be here even now, worrying for you!” Pepper tried to lower her voice, but the turmoil gripping at her chest was suffocating and she didn't know how to contain it. “Taking side is not the point.”

“And what's the problem, then?”

“You care!” she exploded, before she could stop herself, even if those words had already spread in the room devouring every inch of it with a too heavy meaning. “You care about him,” she repeated with a trembling voice.

“Of course I care, he could be an important ally. Not counting the fact that he could tell us something about Thanos.”

Pepper shook her head.

“Don't lie to me, Tony.” She swallowed down a knot of saliva, tasting cinder and sand. “I saw how worried you are, how protective you are towards him. When Bruce was on edge, you put yourself between him and Loki. And I don't understand. Maybe Loki didn't do to you what Schmidt did...”

“Don't ever mention that son of a bitch!”

For a moment there was only silence. All Pepper could see were Tony's upset face, while his words were echoing in the room in a mix of anger and fear, and Bruce's distress expression for something he couldn't fully understand but that he would never ask about – and she wanted to tell him that horrible secret so much, so that she wouldn't be the only one to know and who reassured Tony that it hadn't been his fault, but she could not, she would never betray in such way the most important man in her life.

She took a breath, trying in vain to regain her calm now that the adrenaline was flowing in her system and her head was throbbing.

“Okay, I'll never talk about him again, but even if there's someone worse than Loki, he still is a dangerous assassin. You could become ally to face a common enemy, but that wouldn't erase the past, nor would it make Loki a good person.”

Tony lifted the hand that was lying on his stomach and slammed it on the table. His open fingers were trembling, on the woody surface.

“You know nothing.”

“Tony...” Bruce tried to intervene, his voice less calm than before, but Pepper wasn't able to stop, by now.

“Loki is the alien who attacked the Earth, who almost destroyed New York, who caused thousand of deaths and tried to kill you.”

“You think I don't know that?”

“I think you're forgetting it too easily, since you're behaving like he is your friend and like your friends are the enemies.”

Tony shook his head, exasperation and exhaustion crossing his face, before a darker version of a smile appeared on his lips.

“It's not what you think.”

“Did he brainwash you? Is he manipulating you somehow?” Pepper closed her hands into fists, feeling her manicured nails digging in her palm, a brief sting of pain she barely noticed with what was hurting inside her chest. “God, Tony, how can you not notice?”

Tony stood up so abruptly he sent the chair against the wall behind him.

“How many other people are going to accuse me of being controlled by Loki? Natasha, Fury, Clint... now even you, Pep.”

“Are you saying you're not?” In a moment, all three of them were standing, even she and Bruce, who seemed to be the only one still calm and collected. Pepper knew she was breathing heavily and that her nails where about to break the skin, but it didn't matter, not when she felt she was losing Tony. “Loki is not affecting you?”

“Exactly, I've always been myself.” Now Tony was shaking, as he reached towards her. He grabbed her from her arms, not caring about Bruce placing one hand on his shoulder in a warning gesture. “Look at me, Pepper. Does it look like I'm under some sort of mind control? Like was Clint, in the video feed you watched?”

No, it didn't, the eyes were his own, the anguish, the coldness, the torment inside them were his own, the person in front of her was Tony and that, maybe, was even worse. Pepper grabbed him back, trying to keep him closer, to not let him drift away, while tears were making everything blurred and difficult to put into focus, now that even the hope for some kind of harmless explanation – mind control, a spell, something that could be resolved – dissolved into thin air in front of her eyes.

“Then why? Why do you care about such a man?!”

For a moment, she thought he would never answer. Then Tony's hard expression crumbled, leaving her with the urge to scream because of the naked, desperate vulnerability that she could now read on his face.

“Because I looked at him and it was like looking at myself.”

“You... what?”

Tony let her go abruptly, the tension in his body replaced by defeat.

“Loki is me. He's what I would be if I hadn't had you or Yinsen. Loki is what I would have become if I hadn't been given a second chance.”

And he believed what he was saying, he meant it for real. Pepper could tell from the dark despair in his eyes and the tension on his too tired face.

This time, when she swallowed, she tasted her own tears.

“You're not like him, Tony.”

He shook his head.

“You can't know that.”

“Then explain it to me.”

Tony took a deep breath that seemed to steal all of his energy, then lowered his eyes to avoid her and Bruce's gaze, but before he started talking there was an interruption.

“Sir, Loki awakened forty-seven seconds ago and his vitals are quickly worsening.”

Tony lifted his head abruptly.

“What's going on?”

“I fear he is having an acute stress reaction. If there isn't an external intervention, he could put his healing at risk and damage his body in a permanent way.”

And this time, instead of arguing, the three of them all ran towards the bedroom.

 


	23. Chapter 22: Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, it took a while, but this is really a long chapter, at least for my standards, and I struggled a lot with the translation. It's unbetaed as usual, but I hope it's readable.  
> Thank you so much for your feedbacks, I love your comments and I always appreciate them and the kudos and favs!  
> So, we have a Loki freakout, a worried-as-hell Tony, plus Bruce and Pepper in the mix. I can't tell you how many times I ended up cursing myself while I was writing this chapter, for havint built up such situation XD But, well, here it is, and I tried my best. Hope it won't disappoint.

**Chapter 22: Ice**

 

The cold was sneaking through her clothes like a welcome back caress, carrying the cruel memories of her childhood that had never failed to make her smelling blood, which was a strange, comforting perception for the deepest part of her conscience. Even through her gloves, she felt ice burning her naked fingers, a thousand needles piercing her skin like during her first missions, when that pain was the only perception she could trust to be sure she was still alive in that endless, white desert that surrounded her.

Now, however, the snow existed only in her memories, because she was in an unknown building, a base whose prominent color was a dull gray.

Her eyes wandered on the men around her, without letting her thoughts resurfacing and showing on her face.

Seven of them were aiming their guns at her. Three more where targeting her partner. Natasha knew she would be able to hit at least four of them, before they managed to gunned her down, but not all, because they were trained agents, who were almost as ready to kill as she was. Not that things would get that far.

She strengthened her fingers around the guns she had drawn as soon as Clint had had weapons trained on him. Luckily those agents were smart enough to not shoot at the first sign of aggression, but she wasn't sure how long that stalemate would last without really spilling blood, if no one backed off. And it was as clear as the day that Clint didn't have such an intention: completely ignoring the threat looming above him, with his hands still closed into fists, he was glaring at the man on the floor like he was searching for the next spot where to land the second hit.

“Are you going to punch me again, Barton?” Coulson asked, his hand going to prod his jaw.

His was the only blood that had been spilled, a crimson rivulet that, from his mouth, had flowed down to his chin and chest, staining his flawless shirt. Clint had hit him as soon as the agents of that new S.H.I.E.L.D. facility had brought them to him, a punch right in the jaw, before Coulson'd had the time to completely turn around and put him into focus. No surprise there that, as their first reactions, the agents had drawn a gun on the two of them.

“Why don't you get up and discover it by yourself?”

Coulson lifted one hand, looking at his men.

“Put the guns down.”

They all obeyed, even if they looked a little hesitant in doing so, and Natasha did the same, lowering her guns, but not putting them back into their holsters. She didn't care about the suspicion in the agents' eyes that were still focused on her, keeping track of her every move, since she knew they would never attack her without an order. It was Clint she worried about, though.

Coulson nodded towards her. “Romanoff,” he said, before shifting his focus back to Clint. “Barton. Welcome in our newest base.”

He stood up, tidying his tie, then he passed one hand through the hair that the aggression had almost imperceptibly ruffled, in a silence that was full of Clint's growing anger. It would be a matter of mere seconds before he made another mistake and attacked him again, but Coulson knew him, he knew as well as her that no one had ever managed to teach Clint how to completely suppress his impetuosity.

“It would be better if we have a little talk in a less crowded place,” he said, nodding towards a door several feet away.

He started walking without waiting for an answer and Natasha was quick in putting herself between him and Clint. A minute later, they were inside what seemed like the small version of an office, without curios eyes or hostile presence that would hinder their discussion. Seeing how obsessively neat and tidy the place was – the total absence of dust, the shiny desk, the stack of papers all of the same height –, it was obvious who was the owner of that aseptic room.

Coulson closed the door, and all the noises disappeared, in the evidence that the walls had to be soundproof. When he turned to face them, focusing his eyes on Clint, his face was stern.

“I can understand that you two felt betrayed, especially you, Barton. But attacking me in front of a handful of agents who have the task to eliminate any threats was a very foolish course of action.”

“Fuck you and your understanding,” Clint growled, and despite her tranquil appearances, with her arms crossed over her chest and the relaxed shoulders, Natasha was ready to spring into action. She briefly wondered whether her intervention would convince her partner to calm down. It wouldn't, she decided, because in that situation it was better if Clint had the chance to vent his frustration and anger, so that he would be able to regain his lucidity and be ready to face the actual reason Fury had sent them so far away. They had been ordered to check the base's situation, to update Coulson on the new information regarding Thanos and the war the alien would unleash against their whole planet, to discuss the best defense options they had; but there was something else. She had realized it immediately, maybe more than Fury would have wanted. Clint hadn't noticed anything wrong in that, thought, since he was too distracted by his resentment, and Natasha couldn't hold that against him. The archer was a good spy and an even better special agent. He knew how to control himself, how to come up with a smart strategy and also how to control his emotions, but not when people he cared about were involved.

She didn't need to be the Black Widow to recognize the pain on his face, beneath his anger.

“We all mourned you!” Clint growled.

A curios expression replaced the impassible mask that Coulson had showed so far.

“Even Natasha?” he asked, turning towards her.

“I felt sorry for your death.” She met his eyes without faltering or showing anything of the emotions that had hit her at that discovery. “I must congratulate you on your perfect deception. It surely had the desired effects.”

And Coulson and Fury had managed to trick her, catching her by surprise with what she felt like a personal failing. She should have never allowed herself to lower her guard and be so naïve, not even in a situation as frantic as Loki's invasion. But it wouldn't happen again, she had sworn in several occasion during that trip to that hidden S.H.I.E.L.D. base, while she had been analyzing the last few events – Fury surrendering, his truce with Pepper, the Council's threats and interference in the upcoming war – to obtain some answers. And she succeeded.

“It was necessary.”

“Bullshit!” Clint was livid, his hands still clenched into fists, the knuckles so white that they seemed about to break the skin.

Coulson shifted his attention back towards him, meeting his glaring eyes with his usual solid calm.

“It worked. If you hadn't believed in my death, the Avengers would have never existed as a team.”

“That's only a fucking excuse. It could have made sense for Tony, Steve and Bruce, not for the two of us, who worked for you. Who _trusted_ you.”

Coulson sighed, without hiding a tired expression.

“Barton...” he started, but Clint interrupted him punching the wall.

“No fucking Barton! I could have forgiven you for that deception at the time, since there was an emergency, but why haven't you told us later? We were a team, by then. If anything, you reappearing alive and well would just strengthen our bond, with the common goal of coming here to kick your ass.”

“Which would be an excellent reason to keep you all in the darkness.”

Whether Coulson had said it as a joke or in a serious way, it seemed like he was trying to irk Clint even more, and Natasha bent her head a little, studying him

“He didn't tell us because there's more,” she said, before Clint attacked Coulson again. That managed to stop him, because for a moment, forgetting his resentment, the archer glanced towards her with a mix of confusion and suspicion.

“What do you mean, Natasha?”

“Pepper would never be able to force a negotiation on Fury just with the threat of your defection, Clint. And if he didn't want anyone to know that Coulson was still alive, it was for more reasons than not wanting to upset you or me. He needed a trusted man for a mission so secret that not even the Avengers would have to know about.” Natasha shifted her gaze towards Coulson, catching a glimpse of a crack in his impassivity, even if she couldn't tell whether it was uneasiness or admiration. “Isn't that right?”

“I guess it would be of no use to deny it now.”

Clint looked at both of them, his expression hardening.

“Enough. I want to know what it's happening.”

Coulson's lips curved in a brief smile.

“I bet Natasha already has an idea.”

“If it's something that could help us for this war, it wouldn't make sense to keep it hidden, especially from us.”

After having scrutinized her for a couple of seconds, Coulson nodded.

“What I'm about to show you exceeds your security level.” He reached for the laptop, turning it on and typing a string of at least thirty letters, what had to be his password. After a few moments, some familiar looking blueprints appeared on the screen.

And then Natasha understood.

 

 

 

The cold was making him shiver, it was so sharp and merciless that reminded him of the first few minutes after Loki's arrival, but Tony didn't care while he rushed towards the god, his wide eyes taking in every detail of that grim situation and the breath stuck in his throat.

There was nothing of the calm that had surrounded the room when he had left Loki alone. Now the god was awake, his body tense and his features twisted in pain and anger; there was a faint blue light surrounding his right hand closed in a fist, and blood was flowing from his lips, which were distorted in a feral grimace, the desperation so vivid on his face, so _familiar_ , that Tony felt a pang in his chest. He didn't need to ask him anything to know what he was trying to do.

Loki had realized that the worst of his fears had resurfaced from his own skin, and now he was killing himself to hide it again from the world. With his faraway gaze and his face filled by the obsession that was condemning him, he didn't even seem to be aware of Tony's hands wandering on his body to check his wounds, or of his entrance in the room.

“Fuck no.”

When Tony went to touch the god's chest with trembling fingers, scared of what he could find, the cold burned his skin like a flame.

“What's happening?” Bruce asked behind him, his voice tense. It seemed like the shock had stopped him from reacting immediately, and Tony had almost forgotten about him or Pepper. With the eyes focused on the agonizing god, he didn't even care to turn towards him, he just waved his hand to dismiss them.

“Go away, I'll take care of it.”

“What?”

“We won't let you alone with Loki, while he is so unstable!”

This time, Tony turned around, meeting Pepper's shocked eyes with a deeply irritated expression.

“In case you didn't notice, I'm not the one who's dying.” Maybe he had hurt her, but he didn't care; he would explain his reasons in another moment, apologizing for his harsh reply, not now that inside his mind there was room only for his feverish need to help the god. “Just leave! Jarvis can update you in real time and assure you of my well-being, and I swear that once the crisis will be over I'm going to answer to all of your questions, but go the fuck away!”

His fingers were trembling, yearning to return on Loki, to take care of him and be sure that he hadn't started bleeding again – but there was blood inside his mouth, which was a too tangible proof of blood in his lungs, there was that freezing cold surrounding the whole bedroom, and the god was wheezing.

“I can help him.” Bruce stepped forward, putting his body between him and a petrified Pepper, maybe to shield her from his angered words, maybe to try getting closer to the god.

Tony shook his head.

“No, you can't.” Because if he was sure of something, in that moment of anguish and fear and helplessness, it was that Loki would never forgive himself for having showed his weakness and secret to them. Maybe he would already find too difficult to forgive himself for having showed it to him. “You know I don't say it often, but please, Bruce. Just listen to me for the last time.”

His friend look at him, pale and surprised, without saying anything for a few too long seconds when every fragment of time was precious. Then he must have seen something that convinced him, because he nodded and, despite his lips twisted in grimace, put an arm around Pepper's shoulders, gently pushing her towards the door while murmuring something at her ear.

Tony didn't even listen to him while he turned around to look at the god. Only the tiniest fraction of his attention followed his two friends' exit, and only to be sure they were leaving for real, because most of his mind was focused elsewhere. Loki almost wasn't breathing. The blood flowing down from the edge of his mouth had started staining his chin and chest, it was more than before, but Tony doubted Loki had even noticed. Judging from his blank expression, it was clear that his consciousness wasn't truly there and that only his obsessive need to change his appearance filled his mind.

His efforts to use what little magic he had left were damaging a body that had already reached its limit. The thought of watching him dying like that, for a foolish reason after it had seemed he would survive, was hurting Tony somewhere beneath the Reactor at his every breath.

He grabbed the god's shoulders with his naked fingers, feeling needles of ice piercing his skin and sending waves of pain up to his hands and arms, but he didn't let go.

“Loki, look at me,” he ordered, his voice resolute, despite his whole body trembling, whether because of the cold or the tension he couldn't say. “You're going to kill yourself if you keep doing that. I need you to calm down, so that you won't foil all the work we did to save you in the last few hours.”

The god tensed, looking up at him with eyes filled by violent desperation. There was a glimpse of recognition, then his bloodstained lips twisted in a grimace.

“Stark,” he wheezed, a hiss so low that it wasn't possible to tell which emotion it carried.

“Exactly, that's me, your favorite Avenger and the smart, charming mortal that saved your life. Now, could you please cooperate a little in making that latter thing last?”

Loki took a broken breath, then his whole face twisted in anger.

“Go away.”

It was there, all that self-hatred, standing out from the crimson in his eyes like another wound. It was so vivid that his expression seemed unable to show anything else, the defeat of the master of deception who now wasn't able to lie anymore. Tony strengthened his grip on the god's shoulders, feeling the icy skin against his fingers sending a burning wave of pain.

“No way. I haven't spent a whole night together with Pep and Bruce to patch you up only for you to ruin all our efforts. So stop with that meaningless attempt of suicide and try to focus your energy to heal your lungs, instead.”

With his eyes now reduced to two angered cracks, Loki tried to shove him away, a clumsy movement that stole a hiss from his lips, and Tony found his heart stuck in his throat again.

“You are a fucking stubborn jerk, you know?” He tried to compromise between his attempt to keep the god still and the fear of hurting him. “What are you scared of? I've already seen everything I could see of this new look of yours, by now. In case you didn't notice, I spent whole hours trying to patch you back together. Don't you feel foolish, trying to return to a half-dead condition just to hide a secret I already know?”

The god showed him his teeth, twisting his lips in a bloodstained grimace, like he didn't have enough breath to reply, but, despite the hatred still burning inside his eyes, he didn't rebel anymore. Instead, little by little, the glowing around his hand faded, as did the tension of his wounded body, and when he took another gurgling breath, with more blood flowing down from his mouth to his chin, the grimace disappeared too.

Only then did Tony let his shoulders go, but his left hand slid along the god's arm, instead of pulling back, following the need to keep a physical contact with him. He didn't know whether he was doing it for Loki, to prove him that he didn't mind his true appearance, or for himself, but he didn't even care about the cold burning his fingers.

After having followed his hand, Loki's eyes met his own for a brief moment. They were crimson, more vivid than the blood, and beautiful, even with that unsettling color. Then the god looked away, exhaustion and pain deeply engraved on his face, that didn't manage to hide his contempt.

“Pull back your hand before it freezes.”

Truthfully, Tony already felt his fingers becoming numb and he was afraid to see how they would look like once he pulled his hand back, but he couldn't accept Loki to talk about himself with that defeated voice, full of self-contempt and self-hatred, which was way worse than rage.

He lifted his hand, leaning in to brush his cheek, next to one of those lines that decorated his blue skin.

The god tensed so abruptly it startled him.

“No.”

Tony's hand shivered while he met the god's eyes. He wanted to kiss him, to claim his lips and his breath so that he would express all the anguish he felt during the last few hours. He wanted to feel he was alive, in that direct, primitive way that was born from the most instinctive part of him; he wanted to reassure him in the most direct way, tasting his icy cold skin, to give him the proof that nothing had changed, that Tony still wanted him. But the torment he read inside the god's eyes stopped him before he moved. He would never add such a violation to what Loki was already suffering, considering he was forced in his most hated appearance in the house of his former enemies.

He pulled back, letting his hand fall down on his own thigh, as he watched Loki's broken body, scared of catching a glimpse of blood on the bandages around his chest, or some kind of worsening in his condition, but it seemed that the crisis had passed without irreparable damages.

In the silence broken only by the god's tired wheezes, Tony waited for the pain on his fingers to recede to a pins and needles sensation all over the skin, as his hand returned to a normal temperature.

When he couldn't simply remain still and in silence anymore, he reached for his Reactor, brushing it with his fingers almost without realizing his own action, while he remembered the first few days after his rebirth: the nightmares that had been tormenting him in Afghanistan and in New York, that left his mind only to abandon him to an even worse awakening, with a smooth, hard surface in place of his skin, and the sensation or reliving the moment when he had almost died, his chest cut open and then stitched it back together, with a foreign object forced inside his body where he had lost part of him forever. It had taken him weeks, maybe even whole months before he had managed to look at his best creation with pride, to accept it as a natural part of him, and not with the horror of looking at a mutilation.

“I know what it feels like being trapped in a body that you don't recognize as your own,” he murmured, before lifting his gaze from his chest to search for the god's eyes. “You can't escape that. You can only accept it.”

Loki grimaced again.

“You have a weapon.” He breathed in with a broken sound, while the pain on his face became more evident. “Your contraption did not make you a monster. It saved your life.”

Tony sent him a rueful smile.

“It wasn't easy to accept that, you know,” he said, before returning serious, coming closer to the god, without avoiding his eyes. “But you're right. The Reactor saved my life. And that,” he pointed towards Loki's whole body, his blue skin, the crimson eyes, the lines that crossed his arms and face, “is what saved yours.”

“Do not mock me, Stark.”

Even as wounded as he was, the god had managed to make his voice sound like a growl.

“If you had kept your usual appearance, with your usual temperature, you would have bled out. That is, if your heart didn't give up first. You would have never survived with your usual vitals.” He paused, letting his exhaustion softening his voice. “I know you don't like having this look, but what about healing your body first, and trying to change its color later?”

Loki pursed his lips without answering, focusing his eyes on the ceiling, but the hand that was hiding the Tesseract shard hadn't glowed anymore, nor had his muscles tensed in effort and pain. Instead, his body started relaxing, little by little, like pain and exhaustion had suddenly reached him, overwhelming even his stubbornness until they suppressed his anger, his self-contempt and that violent desperation that had almost brought him to his death.

Tony stared at him in silence and only when the god's face relaxed a little in the frail peace of an agitated sleep, he manage to truly breathe again.

“Jarvis?” he murmured, careful not to wake the god.

“His vital signs are stable again, Sir. He shouldn't be in life danger anymore, assuming he'll manage to maintain his reactions under control during his next awakening,” the AI replied, his equally low voice carrying a hint of scolding.

“Good.”

His eyes wandered along the god's body, from his face to the bandaged chest, until they met the sheet covering his hips, and only then he looked away, passing one hand through his hair with a sigh.

“You'll be the death of me, Rock of Ages.”

 


	24. Author's note

Hi, I know it's been a long time since my last update, but I'm still alive and I'm still pretty convinced in continuing my story. I'm really, really sorry, both for my long silence and for this "fake" update. I just wanted to let you know I've not abandoned my fic.  
Fact is, I decided to take my FrostIron BDSM!AU off the internet to rewrite it as an original, trying to get it published. Luckily it went well, I found a publishing house interested in my story, which resulted in my free time brutally decresing. For the last few months, I was very busy with the editing of my first book and the writing of my sequel. Now I'm at a good point, though, so I'm resuming my fanfictions and I hope I'll have a real update to offer by the end of this month if not sooner.  
Thank you all for your support and your patience, your messages and reviews meant a lot for me, during the last weeks, and really kept me company even while I was struggling with this new project.  
I really hope I won't disappoint when I'll update for real.


	25. Chapter 23: As ugly as truth can be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, it took a while, and again I'm sorry, but here it is the new chapter! I'm a bit rusty with the Italian-to-English translation and the chapter isn't betaed, so I only hope it's readable.  
> Thank you so much for your support and your interest, it really means a lot to me and I was moved when I realized how many comments of encouragement I was receiving.  
> As for those who asked (thanks for your interest!), the book will come out in a month, but in Italian language only, for now, sorry. My publishing house just handles the Italian publication and I still don't feel good enough to translate it to English myself; I'm working on it, though, and I'm looking around for help, and eventually I hope I'll be able to publish an English version of it, maybe on Amazon or on some digital store.  
> And... I think that would be all. Better if I stop here or I'm going to write chapter notes that are longer than the chapter itself XD Have a good weekend and, I hope, enjoy your reading :)

**Chapter 23: As ugly as truth can be**

 

_There hadn't been any audio feeds. There hadn't been any words, neither between the two men on the screen, nor between the two of them. But the video feeds Jarvis was showing them had been enough. Maybe even too much. Together with Pepper, Bruce had stared at every single frame: Tony's fight to make their enemy regain his senses, while said enemy was caught by an inexplicable self-destructive madness; his lips moving frantically, showing the same urgency that filled his eyes; Loki surrendering little by little, listening to him with a meek, almost defeated behavior that had surprised both Pepper and him; and then, Tony's hand reaching for the god's cheek in a gesture that was impossible to misunderstand._

_It didn't matter that the wounded god had stopped him, grimacing with his bloodstained lips._

_That tentative touch had hit them both like a fist in their guts._

_That moment, with his eyes shifting from the images on the screen to the pale woman at his side, Bruce had regretted asking Jarvis to show them how things were going in Loki's bedroom. Pepper hadn't made a sound, she had just flinched, and her cheeks had lost whatever little color they had._

_When Bruce had focused his eyes back on the screen, he had realized how fast his heart was beating, but for once there hadn't been any rage filling his mind._

_The scene in front of them was too intimate, it was_ wrong _. While the silence surrounded them, they stood side by side, staring at the motionless body of a former enemy and at the friend who was watching over him, the room filled with words that were too heavy to be said out loud._

 

 

It seemed like whole hours had passed when Tony finally left the room where Loki was sleeping to join them, but at the same time it was like it was happening too soon. Bruce felt he wasn't prepared yet to face what the video feeds had revealed. He took off his glasses, needing a distraction, so that he could recollect his thoughts. Using the hem of his sweater to clean the lenses, he took a few deep breaths, without making a step. It was only when he felt Pepper's eyes on him that he decided to act, to spare her that unpleasant task.

He put his glasses on again, approaching his friend before he reached the elevator.

“Tony, we have to talk.”

His friend turned to look at him, the shadow of a smile playing on his lips and his face tense.

“It's a little too late for my trial, don't you think? Or should I say too soon? We should better have some good hours of sleep, before that.”

Outside, through the window, the dawn had lightened the sky with the promise of a new day, but in the tower it seemed like the darkness of the night was still lingering in the rooms, clinging to the walls, a creeping presence that clouded their moods and their faces.

Bruce felt Pepper tensing, at his side. The anguish hadn't abandoned her, not even for a moment, since they left Tony alone with the god, but he didn't dare to look at her. He needed to remain calm, rational, because if he surrendered to the thoughts that were violently swirling inside his head, he didn't know if he could suppress the Other Guy.

“No one wants to put you on trial, Tony.” He tried to meet his eyes, ignoring the dark circle around them. “I helped you to take care of an enemy. I supported you and followed your directions, I even kept Loki's presence from Steve and Thor. At least, you owe me an explanation. You owe both of us, without lies or attempt to diverting our attention.”

For a moment, Tony closed his hands into fists, then he visibly forced himself to relax and passed one trembling hand on his face, like he was taking off a mask. When his eyes returned to look at them, they weren't guarded anymore, they were only terribly exhausted.

“You're right. But the first time I hear one of you hinting at the Stockholm Syndrome, or at mind control or bullshit like that, I'll return by the Smurf-colored psychopath's side and put the whole floor in lockdown. Is that clear enough?”

“It is.”

Tony nodded, then something softened in his expression.

“Listen, we've just been back from an episode of ER godly edition. I need a coffee and you two could use one as well. Care to join me in the kitchen?”

And they must really have been upset, if the soundest, healthiest proposal came from Tony.

“Of course,” Bruce answered, and even Pepper made a tentative smile while nodding.

A few minutes later, they were around a table, all with a hot cup in their hands, even if Bruce had been the only one who had chosen tea over coffee. Tony emptied his cup in a few sips, before he took a refill, grabbing it with unnecessary strength.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“For example from the fact you think to have something in common with a psychopath,” Pepper replied, her voice sterner than her usual politeness.

Tony showed her the bitter version of a smile.

“Do you think he had always been like that?”

“Are you saying Loki is not as evil as it seems?” Pepper was still calm, still miraculously in control, but her words were strained, like she had to put a lot of effort in pronouncing each letter without making it sound like an accusation. “That he's actually a good guy, who just happens to be misunderstood?”

Tony laughed without actual glee.

“No, he's a complete asshole, that is undeniable. But he could have been a lot more bearable and a lot less crazy if he had grown up in a normal family.”

_He really believes it._ B ruce couldn't avoid noticing the certain way his friend had spoken. It wasn't some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. Tony was too rational for that, he was too aware, of himself, of Loki, of the whole situation. And that made everything worse, somehow.

“Then, explain it to us,” he tried to reason with him. “What did you learn that made you change your mind?”

“There are a couple of details that our friend Conan conveniently forgot to tell us. Like the fact that Loki didn't know he was adopted.”

Pepper shook her head.

“The adoption doesn't justify the crimes Loki committed.”

“I'm not finished,” Tony snapped.

She paled immediately, her teeth digging into her lower lips, but she didn't say anything and Bruce had to fight against the urge to reach for her shoulder, to pull Pepper into his arms like he wanted to protect her from their own friend and from that harsh reply she didn't deserve.

Maybe Tony had realized it too, since he sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes with both of his hands.

“Listen, I don't want to fight, but please, let me finish before saying something.”

“Okay.”

Another sigh, than Tony looked at them both, the hostile expression melting in a deep exhaustion.

“The adoption is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“ _I really doubt that Thor knows about his physiology either. In case you didn't notice his blue-smurf tan, Loki doesn't belong to his race.”_ Tony had told him just a few hours before, and with an unpleasant knot twisting his stomach, Bruce realized that he wouldn't like his friend's explanation.

“There's another race of aliens and Thor's people hate them. You know how this works, don't you?” Tony said, looking directly at him. “Making a monster out of your enemy so that you can justify your hatred and your desire to annihilate him. Or, who knows, maybe those other aliens really are some ugly bastards. Anyway, based on what I grasped, that feud has been lasting for a while, so, among Thor's people we have little children raised in fanatic hatred against the other race. Can you see where I'm going with this?”

And Bruce saw it. He understood why Tony had been looking at him during his explanation, why, in the god's eyes, he had recognized the same horror he felt when the green was spreading on his skin.

“Loki belongs to that enemies' race,” he said, struggling to form the words through the knot in his lungs and throat.

“Bingo. Thor's father took him as spoil of war, raising him in hatred towards his true race, without telling him about the adoption.” Despite the irony, Tony's eyes were furious, now, his glare bright with the same rage that echoed in his voice, and pierced him like a blade. “Loki spent his whole life believing that the people of the other race were monsters. How could he react when he discovered he was one of them?”

Being a monster, having a monster inside his own skin, and his monster now wanted to be out, Bruce felt him lurking at the edge of his consciousness, roaring inside his ears, scratching at the cracks of his self-control with that insuppressible anger that was devouring him from within.

He closed his eyes for a moment, forcing his lungs to catch the air a slow breath at the time.

When the shadow of his alter ego dissipated a little, he returned his focus to his friend, concentrating on the tense lines on Tony's face instead of on his own turmoil.

“Did Loki tell you that?” he asked him, with a voice that didn't seem his own.

At his side, Pepper was terribly pale, her trembling lips and her horror filled eyes were too evident proofs of the thoughts that must be crossing her head. Bruce didn't even try to imagine what his own expression could be.

“No, I think he would rather bite off his own tongue than tell me his secret. But you saw him, right? When he's really hurt he can't keep up his appearance.”

Yes, they had seen him, and Bruce couldn't avoid believing his friend, despite everything. Even if Loki had revealed that to gain Tony's sympathy, there were too many details that supported that explanation: in his tales, Thor never openly talked about the adoption, it was like he always left something unsaid, and during their fights Loki often talked about monsters, in a way now made more sense. And then, there had been that crazy attempt to hide his true appearance, with the god twisting in the sheets, not caring about the wounds, the pain, his own safety, with a desperation Bruce knew all too well...

That couldn't have been faked.

“So that's the reason?”

Pepper's voice was trembling and Tony shifted his attention towards her.

“Losing everything? Going from a neglected child to someone who was betrayed in the worst way by his own fatherly figure?” His lips curved in a smile that was more similar to a wound. “Don't tell me it doesn't sound familiar, Pep.”

He had used an irony that wasn't able to conceal his exhaustion, talking to Pepper like they were alone in the kitchen, and for a moment, Bruce felt like an intruder, in a pain of which he had only caught a few glimpses.

Pepper reacted to those words like she had been slapped.

“You didn't become a monster, Tony. You didn't become a crazy assassin.”

“I had people who helped me. I had Yinsen, I had _you_. Loki?” Again Tony turned his lips in that smile similar to a grimace. “He fell into the hands of the same sadist that tortured him the way you can imagine even too well, now. Do you still think he's the monster, here? That he became the psychopath we fought against just because he was _evil_?”

After those words, the silence fell so deep that Bruce could hear his own heartbeat and the breath of all the three of them.

Pepper was the first one to broke it.

“He almost destroyed New York. And he almost killed you, in more than one occasion.” She swallowed hard. “You can't ask me to forget that, Tony.”

“I'm not asking you anything. But you wanted to know why I don't hate him. Well, now you know.”

It was true, and Tony's explanations had been clear and plausible, because Bruce could easily picture his friend noticing the similarity between Loki's life and his own, feeling more and more sympathetic towards him as the days passed by.

It was sensible, but inside his head, the memory of that video feed was still vivid, showing him that gentle touch, his friend's hand reaching for the god's blue cheek; a moment when his brain had frozen abruptly and everything had fallen in place with the simplest and most terrible explanation.

In that deep silence, Tony seemed to hesitate, but a moment later something unrecognizable crossed his gaze.

“And there's more.” He spun his cup without looking at them. “He saved my life when I was his prisoner. I owed him.”

“I know what Schmidt did to you...” Pepper began, but Tony's face twisted in rage.

“That son of a bitch has nothing to do with this,” he growled, stopping shortly as soon as he noticed Pepper flinching. He paused, a glimpse of panic showing on his expression, while he shifted his eyes between the two of them, and again Bruce felt like an intruder.

Then Tony took a deep breath, as to regain his control, and his expression softened a little.

“I'm talking about something that happened later. When I got stabbed in the stomach by an alien blade and Loki realized that I'm too handsome to die, so he decided to save me.”

“Alien blade?”

Tony pointed at his belly, just below his Reactor.

“Alien blade, horrifying pain, exsanguination, our friendly neighborhood psychopath, who's way nicer than the psychopath that was trying to kill me, becoming my lovely nurse and with some abracadabra managing to heal a lethal wound.”

_Lethal wound._

There were red dots at the edge of his sight, and Bruce knew it was a lie, it wasn't red the color that threatened to spread through his mind and body, but one a lot more dangerous. He struggled to keep breathing, in and out, a regular rhythm that would help him keep his calm. Inside his mind there was a battle, he could feel all the tension of the last few hours, the exhaustion, the conflicting emotions he felt towards Tony and now that sudden surge of rage and fear for his last explanation, for the knowledge that his friend had almost died.

“Are you saying that Loki tried to kill you and then healed you?” he asked, his voice strained.

And he hoped he'd be able to contain the Other Guy, he really hoped that, but even with Tony safe and sound in front of him, marked only by exhaustion and not by bleeding wounds, he feared that his answer would be his breaking point.

He was taken aback when Tony shook his head.

“Not him. The Chitauri's boss, I think. The one who's supposed to be Thanos' right arm. Better, who was supposed to be it, since there's not much left of him.”

“Maybe it's better if you start again, Tony,” Pepper intervened. “I fear Bruce and I are not following you.”

“Okay. You know how I don't like to be kept prisoner, even if I must admit that Maleficent's hospitality wasn't so bad. That day I discovered how to bypass the spells that isolated his house. Loki had teleported away somewhere, so I took my chance. I was about to escape when, after opening the door, I found myself in front of a small group of Chitauri, lead by the ugliest and most asshole of them all. They had come to capture Loki and bring him to Thanos, the sadistic guy who's arriving here to kill us, but they found me, so they decided to deprive the Earth of its most handsome and most genial inhabitant. No offense, Bruce.” Tony paused for a moment, his eyes flickering between the two of them. “And okay, I would have never got wounded if Loki hadn't had the Chitauri and Mister Horror 3000 at his heels, but he healed me. He could have let me agonize in my own blood, and yet he split into two and while one of him was tearing the bastard to pieces, the other managed to close my wound.” Again he stopped talking, this time lowering his gaze onto his cup. “He didn't have to do it.”

“Loki saved you?” Pepper murmured, her voice and face expressing utter disbelief.

Bruce knew she was still seeing the same images that filled his own head: Tony's face twisted in anguish, his fear as vivid as a bleeding wound, the powerless rage with which Loki was destroying himself, the horror inside his eyes, one hand reaching for that too intimate contact and, at the end, the surrender of someone who was supposed to be just an enemy; a moment of defeat, with the god looking so tired and human, so  _vulnerable_ .

When Tony lifted his head again, there was the shadow of a smile playing on his lips, the first one without hard sarcasm, bitterness or anger.

“I was shocked too when I realized he wasn't giving me the finishing blow.” And then his smile widened. “But I told you, Rock of Ages is crazy about me.”

 


	26. Chapter 24: Something untold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, late again, sorry... This is not my best month. At least the chapter is quite long, considering my average length. Plus, this time the chapter is betaed, and I really thank GetGinxed for that! I hope you'll like it.
> 
> As for my book, it came out almost a month ago, thank you so much for your support! For those who asked me, here it is the link:
> 
> https://www.amazon.it/Come-ombre-nella-notte-Shadows-ebook/dp/B077GBCV4M/ref=cm_cr_arp_d_product_top?ie=UTF8
> 
> but it's only the Italian version. I'm still working on the idea of an English translation, though, maybe for the future.  
> Anyway, thank you for your comments and kudos, and for your interest in what I'm writing! I wish a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to those who celebrate it, and happy feast days to everyone.

**Chapter 24: Something untold**

 

She wasn't jealous.

It was what Pepper had been repeating inside her mind like a mantra that would allow her to keep her grip on reality and to push away the tears threatening to violate her eyes and her composure.

_ She wasn't. _

If it had been someone else, anyone else, she would have felt a stab to her heart, due to the memory of an old love that had left its scar on her, because she was human, after all. And she couldn't always control her emotions, even when her mind knew what the right answer would be. But she would have never felt such  _ despair _ . It seemed like an abyss had swallowed her whole, since she had realized who the person that had gained Tony's affection—the murderer, the enemy, the threat—was.

It was an awareness that had grown inside her little by little, word after word, with his friend's absurd desire of protecting the man who had almost destroyed New York and with the strangely amused note that echoed in his voice when he mentioned him. And then, the definitive proof: there had been the moment when Jarvis had showed Bruce and her what was happening inside that room after a crazier than usual Loki had been trying to kill himself; and  _ she _ had felt like an intruder, spying on a moment of intimacy that shouldn't even have existed in the first place.

It had been Tony's attempt to brush against the god's cheek what made her fall apart. In that gesture, she had recognized more than Tony, more than even Bruce would be able to grasp. Tony did not touch someone like that, with such care and that vulnerable gaze. He did not, unless there hadn't been feelings involved.

Now, his friend had gone resting for a few hours, after the tension, the anguish and the fights of the night before and that morning, and Pepper hadn't had the courage to ask him on which bed he would sleep. She should have done the same, but still she wasn't able to enter the solitude of her room, at least not until the anguish was still biting her chest. Bruce had to think the same, because he was still there, or maybe he didn't want to leave her alone in the kitchen.

She tried to relax her tense muscles, but all her body was quivering for the need to seek his reassurance, his solid support, a connection that would give her comfort and an anchor to a whole world that seemed to have turned upside down. First there had been Tony's kidnapping and the too long days of dread and fear, when she had struggled to bear everything, to be the unshakable defense of the Stark Industries, to face the government and even Fury; then Tony's rescue and his return as the mere shadow of the friend she had never stopped loving. And now, that last realization…

_ Loki. _

She bit her lower lip, but she would never allow herself to crumble, not until she would be alone. She looked up, meeting Bruce's gaze, searching for a friendly expression and maybe for an assurance that would let her regain her self-control.

“What should we do now?”

Bruce passed one hand on his face, his fingers tightening around the leg of his glasses like he wanted to take them off, his habit when he got asked for his opinion on something unpleasant or problematic. He stopped midway, though, and his caring eyes didn't escape hers.

“I don't know.” He sighed, as his hand fell motionless at his side. “I think Loki shouldn't be a threat, for now. As for the rest, I guess we should decide all together what to...”

“I know you saw it.” Pepper hadn't been able to hold back, like sharing that awareness, making it more real by saying it out loud, would somehow lessen its sharp bitterness. “And you heard him. How Tony speaks of him, the way he looks at him...”

_ He looks at him like he used to look at me. _

She swallowed with difficulty, fighting against the wetness that threatened to spill from her eyes. She focused on Bruce's face, instead, his gaze warm and worried, always with that kindness even as he showed the marks of exhaustion and a dangerous tension around it.

“He spent whole weeks with Loki, Pepper.”

“Do you think it's possible he's been somehow manipulated?” She asked it because she needed to, wishing with all her might for a reassuring lie. But she didn't truly believe her own words, not after what Tony had told them.

“I don't...” Bruce started, then he averted his gaze. “Loki surely manipulated him, but I don't think Tony is a victim of a spell, or of a trauma due to his time in captivity.” He cleared his throat, while his eyes wandered on the wall, on the counter, on the table, until they stopped on her forehead. 

“There's some logic in what he suggested. Loki can be a good addition to the team, in the upcoming war. He won't be trustworthy, but having an alien god who can use magic by our side would truly be convenient.”

“That's not the problem.”

It wouldn't be even if it was just flirting, or mere physical attraction, because Tony had slept with so many different women and men without feeling anything more than a fleeting interest, which often had been forgotten in a couple of hours or even less.

“I know.” This time, Bruce's fingers didn't reach for his glasses, but went to rub his tired eyes.

The silence filled the air between them, a background too grim for the thoughts that Pepper felt swirling in her head.

“We must convince Tony to tell the others,” she murmured, after realizing that Bruce wouldn't speak again. Warning the team behind Tony's back would only result in him becoming even more detached, distancing himself further, from her, from all of them. Pepper wished she would never have to come to that.

“You're right. The more we wait, the worse it will be. Once Tony wakes up, we'll talk about it.”

Pepper nodded.

“Maybe we, too, should rest for a while,” she suggested, even if she didn't move.

She saw Bruce's hand reaching for her, and for a moment she almost felt its touch on her shoulder, its reassuring, familiar warmth; but then Bruce let his hand fall at his side without even brushing at her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her instead.

Pepper sent him the shadow of a smile.

“I'm not in love with Tony anymore.”

The surprise that filled Bruce's eyes was as clear as day even through his glasses.

“No... I mean... it wasn't what I was asking.”

Pepper softened her expression, her smile becoming less strained, more open, while she struggled to hide the sadness that had formed a knot in her throat and filled her mouth of the bitter taste of tears.

“I'll always love him though.” Her lips trembled, then they returned a tight line devoid of any joy. “And I can't stand to watch while he destroys and endangers himself, not like this.”

“I understand.”

They both lowered their gazes, while the silence crawled back to fill the whole room. There was a different kind of turmoil than the one regarding Tony now. It was like that one kiss had returned to weight on them, invading their thoughts with sudden inexorability. Pepper could read it in Bruce's eyes.

She could seek shelter and comfort in his arms, allowing herself to forget all her worries and hurt with simple human warmth, with the affection she needed, but it wasn't fair, neither for Bruce, nor for her.

Bruce shouldn't only be a support to not give in to desperation.

She had always considered him a friendly presence, the Avenger with whom she had bonded the most and whom she felt the closest, aside from Tony; then the fondness she felt for that doctor, who had come tip toeing in others people's lives, and to behave like he had to apologize for simply being there, had evolved into something deeper, until it had become something more difficult to define. She had realized it when S.H.I.E.L.D. had trapped Bruce, and later, when seeing him so vulnerable while he was still suffering from whatever drugs they had pumped into his veins had hit her too deeply.

She struggled to swallow, to not think of how comforting it would to be for both of them to search for a hug that would maybe bring them to spend the night together. She wouldn't allow to have the fear and the anguish guide such a decision.

“How are you?” she asked, attempting to smile. “After what happened, you should receive a medal for being able to keep your calm. You're the only one among the three of us that was able to remain in control of yourself.”

“I guess the Other Guy was as surprised as I was.” Bruce curved his lips, without managing to completely hide his awkwardness. “Now I would gladly sleep for a few hours, though.”

“I think we deserve it.”

Another moment of deafening silence.

“So, have a good rest, Pepper.”

He had just turned his back to leave the kitchen when her hand moved like it possessed its own mind.

“Bruce...” Pepper grabbed his wrist and felt him shiver against her fingers, but not to escape from her grip. She, too, would have wanted to make that contact deeper, to go closer to him, a temptation that she drove away, tightening her lips, and letting his arm go as soon as Bruce's eyes met her own. “You know it will be hard to tell the other Avengers, right? I don't mean everything, but that Loki is here.”

“I know. We should find a way to tell them and avoid the worst.”

Thor would accept the news without problems, even more, he would be thrilled, Pepper was sure about it. Steve would listen before doing anything impulsive, giving them the possibility to convince him that a truce with their old enemy was possible and maybe useful. But then there was Natasha: who represented an enigma that no one was able to solve, not even the people belonging to her world of spies. And, above all, there was Clint, who had just become an ally, whose hatred towards Loki would maybe make him a pawn in S.H.I.E.L.D. hands again.

Pepper bit down on her inner cheek, fighting against the doubts that threatened to take over her mind.

“What could we do?”

She should be the one with an answer, she, who was Tony's right hand, the CEO of Stark Industries and the woman who was used to solve every single problem that crossed his friend's path; but the pain tormenting her chest, that had accompanied the last conversations with Tony and that had worsened after what Jarvis had showed her, had sapped her of all her energy.

Bruce's eyes met her own, they were clear, despite the exhaustion and the tight line of his mouth. He wasn't even showing a hint of that dangerous rage that lived with him, only a determination that gave her an unexpected comfort.

“We should try to understand what Loki's intentions are. And then, do our better to protect Tony.”

 

* * *

 

There was someone next to him.

A warm sensation, a familiar smell that didn't awaken threat or danger, not even now that he was so vulnerable and wounded. When he opened his eyes, fighting to shatter the veil of weakness that surrounded him, he wasn't truly surprised when he recognized the unfocused shape of his mortal. Stark was enveloped in several layers of blankets and clothes, in the sharpest proof that the monster living inside his skin was still in the open, for everyone to see; but he was there, at his side, unmistakable in his appearance and even in his light snoring.

Loki blinked, breathing deeply only to awaken the painful agony in his lungs again, a sensation that had never truly disappeared, not even while he was sleeping. But it had lessened, now. It was almost bearable. The source of magic pulsing inside his hand crawled along his wrist and arm, soothing the worst of his suffering and giving him a cautious breath back. When he managed to put his surroundings into focus, it was a familiar place that greeted him, while his thoughts were still wildly whirling inside his head.

He was safe, in the tower of Midgard where he had been spending more time than he would have liked to admit. First, spying on what his former enemies were planning to face the one who could not be defeated, and then fucking the mortal who had claimed his mind.

Next to him, laid Stark.

They had slept in the same bed.

It wasn't the first time such an occurrence has happened.  A flash of memories hit him: Stark sleeping on the floor, the clinking of his chains, the smell of his fear, and the rattled starts due to his nightmares; but that had happened  _ before _ , when the mortal wasn't speaking, when he was just a broken puppet whose death wouldn't grant him any satisfaction. Then, something had changed, in his mortal, but in himself too. He remembered when he had woken up feeling his warmth a few inches from his own body, the first time they had shared the bed like it had been a spell to send away the worst shadows populating the night; then there had been another night together, and another, until the thought that had hit him, after he had woken up with his eyes focused on the mortal, had been a realization as terrifying as it was true.

He averted his eyes, not looking at Stark's messy hair and peaceful features anymore.

It still burned from within, deeper and more fierce than Thanos' torture, somehow; the realization that Stark was important to him like nothing had ever been since the day he had discovered the monster beneath his skin; like he had never considered anyone else, aside from Frigga.

He reached for his throat, which was left half bare by that ridiculous sweater the mortal wore. Trying to ignore the blue staining his skin as the proof of his cursed heritage, he looked down to his face, noticing the exhaustion still showing on his features and the peaceful expression while he was sleeping next to him, a monster.

Just a kill, a flick of his fingers, and the weakness hurting his eyes would be gone forever. He would lose part of him, with it, he knew it, but it would make him stronger.

_ Stark had taken care of him, tried to heal him, he had looked at him with worried eyes instead of horror. _

His fingers trembled, and the pain in his burnt lungs that tortured him at every breath was nothing in comparison to the internal fight tearing him apart from the inside.

“I ask you to desist, or I will be forced to alert Doctor Banner and Miss Potts.”

Loki would have startled, if only he hadn't been used to hide his surprise. He tensed, without pulling back, but without doing the last gesture that was tempting and tormenting him at the same time. He didn't need to look around to know who had spoken.

“You are Stark's creation.”

“My name is Jarvis, I am the artificial intelligence who manages the tower and protects Mr. Stark's wellbeing.”

That last word carried a tangible warning. With his lips curving into a grimace, Loki lied down on his back again, finding himself facing an annoying hint of relief, born somewhere in his damaged chest.

“I thank you for your cooperation.” The voice used by the mortal's creation now sounded less hostile. “How may I call you?”

“Stark did not tell you my name?”

“Of course, I am aware of your name and your identity. But Mr. Stark wanted me to use the epithet of ‘Reindeer Games’ and I suppose this is not the rightful situation.”

Always arrogant, that mortal of his.

“You can call me Loki.”

“As you wish.”

In the silence that followed that comment, Loki began checking his body. His magic was terribly low, because he still hadn't recovered enough to collect some of it. He even found it difficult to use the Tesseract shard, as greater proof of how weak he was. And yet, his lungs were slowly healing, his body wasn't about to shut off anymore, his death was becoming further and further away from him at each passing minute. If he could eat and rest, he would be able to recover in a few days.

But first…

He strengthened the grip on the Tesseract shard that had allowed him to stay alive and focused to use that source of energy, willing his body to be purified from that unacceptable shape.

“I must warn you that at the first sign of hostility, I will be forced to call Doctor Banner. And in case of self-destructive behavior, I'll have to wake up Mr. Stark.” The intangible voice paused, giving him the impression it was human. “I would rather not do that. During the last few days he slept an insufficient amount of hours.”

“I have no intentions of attacking someone. For now.” He wondered if he should feel horrified for that invisible servant that was seeing his true appearance, even if it wasn't a living being, someone in flesh and blood, or someone born out of magic. “But I shall not remain in such state.”

Calling for the energy of the shard in his hand, he focused to regain the aspect that had originated the lie with which he had been living for centuries. The effort made him cringe, while white hot agony assaulted his nerves, and a rivulet of blood stained the edge of his mouth and his chin before he could prevent it. But it was nothing in comparison to what he had already suffered. He lied there, struggling to use his magic for what seemed like an eternity, frustration growing inside him, now that it took so much pain, so much effort to do something that should have been natural; finally, as he was about to give up, he felt the cold retreating, and the illusion of an Asgardian covering his skin, inch after inch. With his fingers curled so tight around the Tesseract shard that it almost broke his skin, he waited until he was sure that his spell had erased even the tiniest trace of that blue on his body, before loosening his grip on that magic.

When he opened his eyes, with his breath almost back to a normal sound, not that broken wheeze carrying pain and exhaustion, the monster had disappeared under his skin again.

He had just relaxed when the mortal net to him stretched, mumbling something impossible to understand, and then opened his eyes. In them, Loki found surprise, confusion, and then an emotion so deep and clear that hit him in the same place where he had felt relief, when the invisible servant had stopped him.

Then Stark must have remembered what had happened, because a smile formed on his lips.

“Good day to you, Reindeer Games. Have you finished with your suicidal impulses?” His eyes stared at him, from head to chest, then he frowned. “It seems not. Haven't you listened to a thing of what I said? To accept yourself, to realize that it's not your appearance what makes you a monster, to not trust the racist people who raised you with the fucked up idea of valuing someone's worth depending on their race? And don't even get me started on that moment of deep empathy, when I opened my heart to you, and you know how possessive I am with that part of my body.”

For some reason, the way the mortal was comparing himself to him bothered Loki.

“You did not discover you were a monster.”

“Merchant of Death, ring any bells? It's just that no one made me believe that. No one important, at least.”

Loki narrowed his eyes, rage and bile raising through his throat and covering the taste of blood.

“You do not understand.”

Stark didn't know what being part of the most hated race of the Nine Realms meant, he didn't know what he had felt when he had seen that blue contaminating his skin, when he had turned to the man who he thought to be his father, looking for some comfort, and instead he had only received a condemnation.

“So, since I don't understand, you shouldn't have any problems showing me your true appearance, right?” When Loki couldn't find a scathing reply fast enough, that annoying challenging stare in Stark's face was replaced by something darker. “Besides, I know one thing at least, that people who judge others from their appearance are the worst scum.”

Loki sent him a grimace, fighting to not take his too comforting, but wrong, words into consideration.

“You are only a mortal.”

“And you're a divine heap of issues, stubbornness and sex-appeal, but I like you anyway. Now, would you please lie still without using your magic, at least until you recover a little, so that you won't destroy our efforts? We managed to keep you alive until now, it would be a shame if you ruined everything.”

That comment made him momentarily forget about his irritation.

“We?”

“Pepper, Bruce, and I. We're all nice people who don't have problems with the color of your skin.”

The woman and the beast.

He remembered some flashes of those two mortals, blurred images while the pain was confusing his thoughts and senses.

And Stark... he had been the one to save him.

He had recruited his friends to save his life and he was there, on his same bed, next to him. He had slept by his side, instead of sleeping with his companions, and he still was in his company, like he was putting him first. It was something totally unexpected, after a whole life spent being always second, always coming after Thor.

The need to destroy and possess, to claim him as his in the most immediate way, engulfed him like  a fire.

Struggling, with a body still too hurt to move without feeling pain, he lifted up on one elbow, meeting the mortal's gaze and his arched brow, which was likely anticipating a question that still hadn't passed through his lips, and the hint of worry inside his eyes, something which made his stomach clench in a way Loki still had to completely understand. Then, before allowing the mortal to talk, he descended to claim his lips.


	27. Chapter 25: Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, here it is my new chapter! Writing and translating it felt like giving birth XD Thank you so much for all your comments and kudos, they made my day <3 And huge thanks to Ginx, who corrected this chapter of mine.

** Chapter 25: Trust **

  
  


Tony couldn't move.

He had just remembered why he was dressed in so many layers of clothing—as there was a very attractive but very wounded god by his side. That's when said god, taking advantage of his distraction while he was still trying to explain what had happened during the last few hours, had assaulted his mouth. He was left panting from such an urgent kiss, full of possessiveness and violence—because there were teeth digging into his lips, there was a tongue thrusting into his mouth, demanding his compliance, and he allowed it, letting Loki explore his mouth while he was still frozen in surprise.

His brain must have been stuck on the image of the god dying—that foreign appearance and his breath that seemed like a wheeze away from shutting off at every moment—considering how long it took him to process that kiss. But the touch of Loki's mouth was familiar, he had missed it, and his body reacted before he managed to collect his thoughts.

Like it had its own mind, his hand tangled in the god's hair, to keep him close, and he stopped passively accepting the kiss, starting to deepen it instead, with a moan that echoed between them more telling than any words.

He tasted again that hint of snow that he was used to associate to Loki's mouth, this time more intense than the usual, but he recognized blood too. It was what stopped him, what made him pull back, breaking the kiss abruptly and moving his hand from Loki's nape to his shoulder.

“ Slow down, Maleficent, I want to remind you that you're a lung and a half from your dazzling form.”

The god's green eyes narrowed.

“ You dare to reject me?”

“ No, I'm just an idiot who's worrying about your ungrateful ass.”

There was a moment of tense silence, then, to his surprise, Loki burst into laughter.

“ You indeed are an idiot, Stark,” he told him, while his laughter ended in a strangled gasp. But there was an amused light in his stare, showing that his pain wasn't so strong that it would put his survival into question.

Tony found himself without a ready answer.

The day before—that is, if it truly was the day before, considering that, since the wounded god appeared here, hours had passed in a whirl of tension, powerless rage and anguish, without any perception of how much time had passed— had sapped him of all his energy, to the point that he hadn't even tried to crack a joke about the Blue Fairy. But now Loki was himself again. The weakness still present in his pale face and his sluggish movements, but his sarcastic humor was back, alleviating the feeling he had to deal with a defeat god, someone so broken he could never put himself together again.

The urge to kiss him was so intense Tony had to sit up and put some distance between them.

“ I'll forgive your last comment because it's clear you're still delirious. So, what about some breakfast? Or lunch, or dinner, I'm not sure of what time of the day it is.”

He looked around, feeling a little disoriented; it was a familiar sensation, though, like when he woke up from his own creative frenzy, finding himself in a world that had kept going without him, while he had spent hours, days, even weeks working almost without pause on a new invention.

When Tony looked at him again, the god had his eyes focused on his face.

“ Some food would be acceptable,” was his answer, with a grimace showing too well how annoying the idea of depending on others was for him; but there wasn't the shadow of defeat hardening his gaze anymore, nor was there the desperation that had brought him to breaking point. Loki was truly back. Wounded, sarcastic, the usual little shit that one moment would devour his mouth like he wasn't able to breath without tasting him, and a moment later would offend him with disdain. The relief washing other Tony warmed his chest beneath the Reactor. And, now that he was thinking of it, he was starting to feel warm all other. Not that he should be surprised, since the god had his usual appearance back, the temperature of the room must have risen again.

“ Give me five minutes and I'll bring you something to eat.”

He took off one of his sweaters, feeling the need for a shower. And he was sure he wasn't the only one, but if he could have his way, he would have tied Loki to the bed, for once without any sexual goal in mind, to prevent him from doing something idiotic, like moving around and worsening his wounds.

As if agreeing with his worries, the god panted, trying to sit up. Tony glared at him, searching in vain for words that would convince him to lay down and keep still. Because he was sure that forbidding him from something would just make him try to do the opposite even more, a behavior he had to admit was very familiar to him. With a hostile gaze, Loki lifted himself with his elbow and then managed to straighten his back. So, with a sigh, Tony took his own pillow, putting it against the god's own, so that he could have some support and could stay comfortably seated.

As soon as he had regained his breath, Loki sent him a contemptuous gaze, despite his pale face.

“ You told me you would go to fetch me some food,” he told him, the blame clear in his voice.

“ So you can try to reopen your wounds? Not a chance, Cruella.”

The god's expression resembled a storm.

“ I am no fragile mortal. Save your concern for those who belong to your pathetic race.”

But Tony wouldn't allow him to make it a point of pride, nor would he allow him to shatter that light atmosphere that had been there since after the kiss, when his pulling back out of concern had been welcome with a laugh.

“ Jarv, please, do babysit Reindeer Games, "who still hasn't understood that for someone who's spent the last day risking his divine skin, should remain still and relax. Warn me if he does something else aside breathing and blinking.”

Loki grimaced. “Watch your tongue,” he threatened him, even if his words didn't carry any true heat.

“ Sure, sure, when you feel better you'll eviscerate me, nothing new about it. I'm going to bring you something to eat, try to be a good god and stay exactly where you are.”

Loki snorted, but it seemed he was tired enough to not try to move, so Tony decided to exit the room and walk towards the kitchen, yearning for some solitude. Between the fight with Pepper and Bruce, the anguish and the desperation, and that scaring realization of how much the god meant to him, he felt too exposed, too vulnerable. He needed some time alone to rebuild his defenses.

“Do not make me wait, Stark.” Loki's voice accompanied him with an echo of his usual imperious tone while Tony was walking through the door, but he couldn't actually be annoyed: the god was better enough to behave like a little shit again. Now he had no doubts he would survive.

  
  


***

 

It must have been an hour.

Tony had taken advantage of that to recharge, to be in touch with the world outside Loki’s room and to feed the god and himself, thanking Jarvis' readiness, who had ordered some food—cheeseburgers, tacos, some Chinese takeaway—even before he had asked him to. Now, they were both sitting on the bed. He had had a shower and Loki was resting after the meal, with his back against the pillows, sliding his Tesseract shard between his fingers. Tony took it as a good sign, that the god wasn't trying to hide it anymore. Or maybe he was just testing him, but it didn't matter, as he had no intentions of trying to take the shard from him unless Loki used it to attack them. He wanted him to feel safe and relaxed instead, because he knew he couldn't wait any longer. Sooner or later, Pepper and Bruce would come back to press him again, and he knew they were right, more than he wanted to admit; besides he'd rather manage the situation on his terms, instead of finding himself cornered, in what could have catastrophic consequences for the god.

If _Loki_ felt himself cornered or in danger, when Tony just wanted to gain his trust, everything could crash and burn, and literally too. Better if he was the one to bring the subject up, so that he could have this conversation without any other people.

He decided to start gradually.

“ So, was the meal to your liking?”

Loki seemed still worn out by the task of eating, but he looked less pale, now.

“ Considering that it was prepared by a mortal, I found it more satisfying than I expected.” A grin curved his lips. “I surely noticed the difference from your cooking.”

“ Good. Now that you feel well enough again to be the annoying Princess and the Pea we’ve all resigned ourselves to love, what about discussing about our situation?” He had spoken with a light voice, but he didn't miss the flash of emotion crossing the god's eyes, that hardened his expression, even if he was still grinning.

“ _Our_ situation?”

“ Exactly. As I already told, you several times by now, I want you as an ally, and I think that it's the unavoidable consequence of what happened. But there are some details we need to discuss, especially for what concerns my teammates.”

Loki tensed, and this time his smile disappeared completely.

“ The beast.”

“ I'm not talking about the Jolly Green, who has a name, by the way, and I doubt you'll ever have to meet again if everything goes as smoothly as I hope. And Bruce is almost as smart as I am, it didn't take long for him to realize that your presence is an advantage for all of us, given the upcoming Star War we're about to experience first hand. But Capsicle, your not-brother, and the two spies should be warned about your addition to the team.”

“ I do not remember of ever accepting to be part of your so called Avengers.”

“ That's a pity, I bet Fury would have a stroke if I presented you as the new honorary member.”

The god's lips quivered, but the light of dark amusement that flashed in the green of his eyes was enough to give away his thoughts.

“ I could accept you all as vassals. If you knelt and begged me to guide your mortal lives.” The amusement turned into something more vivid and burning, something raw and intense, and Tony felt it licking at his skin like a blowtorch. “Especially you, Stark.”

He was forced to take a deep breath before he managed to retrieve his voice, without revealing how much that idea was tempting him, with the unavoidable meaning Loki had to be aware of. The memory of when the god had made him kneel at his feet, to forcefully steal that refusal from him, that had given Tony his voice back, had never been so far away.

In that moment, if only Loki weren't so hurt, he would already be on his knees without a second thought.

After all he had endured, between the days when he had been worried sick because of the god's disappearance, and the last couple of days when he had struggled to keep him breathing, he yearned to feel him—to feel he was alive, to feel it with his hands and mouth, so that he could truly reassure himself that he had saved him, that the god was still there, that he would stay.

“ Let's agree to talk about this again as soon as you're better, and that you'll never mention other people, okay?”

There was a glimpse of white teeth.

“ You do not want that I talk about your precious teammates?”

“ Hell no, if that's about sex.” He answered with a scolding glare to the vivid satisfaction that had appeared in the god's face, before clearing his throat. “And, talking of them.” Loki's smile withered in the blink of an eye, so Tony stopped, knowing he had to choose his words carefully, because he could only imagine how the god had to feel, ‘cause he was vulnerable like that and about to face the people he was used to consider as enemies.

The first step to make things acceptable for him was to convince him that they weren't enemies, not anymore, but possibly an ally with a common goal. Starting with Capsicle would be easier, instead of starting with the two spies. Tony knew what Barton's reaction at Loki's presence in his tower would be. The second step, to make sure Loki trusted him. Tony was ready to fight against the god's huge pride, certain that he would never be happy being so wounded and helpless, but he wouldn't be able to accept hostility born out of mistrust. “Aside from Bruce, none of them know you are here, and I think it's the time to tell them.”

Tension filled the air so abruptly that Tony almost expected to feel that sharp cold biting at his skin and lungs, or to see the god disappearing in a flash of green light. Instead, Loki closed his hands into fists, but didn't move.

“ Do you need their permission? Or their approval?”

“ Hold on, Rock of Ages. It's not because I'm asking permission and surely I don't care of how they're going to react to your presence.” And they would react badly, at least one of them would, Tony was sure. But he couldn't keep Loki hidden for much longer. “I just want to avoid that they discover it in the worst way and to be sure that they can keep the secret from Fury. Besides, it wouldn't be bad if we all became allies, or at least if you could give us some useful information about the big bad who's coming to attack the Earth.”

The god's expression lost every emotion.

“ Would that be the price for having been granted asylum?”

For Tony, it was like a punch to the face.

“ Do you really think I've been spending whole hours risking to freeze to death and fighting against your almost-a-corpse status, just to gain something back?” he asked, with a strained voice that needed all his will power to prevent from screaming.

And there were other words he wanted to say, words filled with rage and hurt, that carried the same resentment burning his chest and throat. Because despite everything between them, still Loki didn't trust him. He still believed he was capable of acting for sheer personal interest.

Loki tensed like he was getting ready for a fight.

“ I do not.” He grimaced, then he averted his gaze. “But neither do I understand.”

He seemed so lost, and at the same time so annoyed for feeling that way, that Tony forced himself to overcome his rage. He sighed, passing one hand through his hair, before trying to meet the god’s eyes, wanting to help said god to overcome the suspicions a whole life spent among lies, violence, and manipulation must have sewn to his every thought.

“ I don't want anything in return. If you want to fight against the bastard that did that to you, you can do it at our side, as our ally. And I assure you that it would be an advantage for all of us. But, if you don't, nothing will prevent you from disappearing from my tower once you're better, and no one will try to stop you.”

The god lifted an eyebrow.

“ No one?”

“ Okay, maybe one of Fury's little two friends will make an attempt, but it would be offensive if you didn't think I would be enough to handle them.”

For a moment, the surprise crossing Loki's eyes was as clear as a wound.

“ You would side against them?” the god asked him.

His eyes were cold and burning at the same time, now, searching for something on Tony's face, almost challenging him to admit it was a lie, to reveal what he was truly thinking, and Tony met them without any shame or hesitations.

“ My house, my rules, and you're my guest. If they're so ill-mannered that they attack you, I'll have to put on my suit and give them a good old ass whooping.”

Loki continued to scrutinize him, as if to look for deceit, but little by little the disbelief that filled his eyes disappeared, replaced by a hint of surprise and again that burning, too vivid emotion that messed Tony's thoughts up.

“ What would your intentions be? To call your teammates, and then?”

“ For the moment, just talking. I make them know you are here, with necessary tact, and then, if you agree, we could discuss our alliance.” The god made a grimace, without replying, so Tony decided to keep going. “I was thinking of starting with our boy scout in stars and stripes, who happens to also be the only one of the team who's currently here, not counting Bruce. I know he doesn't shine in insights, but even him could become suspicious if he hasn't seen anyone around here for a couple of days. I doubt he would react too badly, after all he seems to be more bearable and less prone to show his annoying judgmental side, after the last fight we had.”

“ I can accept that.”

“ And if he weren't reasonable, I could always throw him away from my tower, and...” Tony stopped half sentence, while his brain processed the god's answer. “Wait, what?”

The annoyance in Loki's face increased.

“ Do not make me repeat myself.”

This time, it was Tony's turn to be surprised.

“ So you won't try to magic yourself away before you recover, and you won't try to kill me, or to kill the other members of my team?”

“ I shall not.” A pause, like Loki was about to retract. “Until my staying here is tolerable.”

Tony nodded.

“ And are you up to talk with Capsicle and the others when you’re better?”

“ On some conditions.”

“ What conditions?”

“ No one shall try to steal my Tesseract shard. You are not to call Thor before my wounds close. And if one of you attacks me, and I mean anyone, it will be at their own risks.”

They were all sensitive requests, nothing Tony hadn't expected, and way more acceptable than he had feared. He nodded before thinking and stood up.

“ I’ll go tell them the good news, then. Or you need my presence?”

The deadly seriousness with which Loki had dictated his requests was replaced by a disdainful gaze.

“ I fear you are overrating the pleasure of your company, Stark.”

“I like you too, Rock of Ages.” Tony sent him a smile, maybe less sarcastic than he would have wanted, then walked towards the door. “Jarvis, be a good boy and call everyone in the common room. It's time to face the American legend.”

 

 


End file.
